


Vampire Kombat

by animefreak



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Mortal Kombat Conquest, Renegade (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-03-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 05:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1333333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/animefreak/pseuds/animefreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampires, misplaced gods, bounty hunter on the lamb, two non-Highlander immortals; mix well, include a battle for Earth Realm ... It's a little odd.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Mortal Kombat Conquest and its denizens do not, emphatically, belong to me. Oh what a twisted tale we weave -- Renegade belongs to -- bunches of people who aren't me; same for Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. But Cheri, Tanya and the really bent ideas that produced this piece as well as the twisted tales not from Shakespeare are dragon's fault. dragon is a non-profit organization. (dragon is an organization???????)  
Time: Somewhen  
Place: Hmmm -- Just about -- there!  
Spoilers: None.  
Synopsis: Siro discovers vampires. Rayden discovers that being in two places at once can be uncomfortable. And Siro gets involved with the Slayer gang and Reno Raines in a Mortal Kombat challenge.

Vampire Kombat 

Chapter One

Kung Lao, the sloe eyed Champion of Mortal Kombat, and his companions, Taja, the slenderly nubile red-haired ex-thief, and Siro, the heavily muscled ex-body guard with hazel eyes and an easily kissable mouth, were tired from a very long day of kicking the tar out of assorted OutWorld nasties and had retired to bed for the night. As the three heroes were only the best of friends, and nothing more, they retired to separate, but equal beds in separate but equal rooms in the somewhat dilapidated trading post/mansion which served as their home, training dojo and the focal point of most of the trouble that followed them around.

Tired as she was, Taja’s deep blue eyes would not remain closed long enough to allow her to drift off into blissfully unaware sleep. She shifted, she rearranged her covers, she punched her pillow as though this would help. Nope. Something was bothering her. Tired of fighting to get some sleep, she got up and moved silently down the hallway to the stairs. Being a reformed thief as well as a well-trained martial artist, moving silently was second nature to her. Living with two other well-trained martial artists, including the frequently angst ridden and immortal winner of the last Mortal Kombat tournament, there was a lot of quiet to be had in their home, which was why a sound coming from Siro's room startled her. 

She frowned. Siro did snore on occasion. But this didn't sound like a snore. It sounded like a moan. He'd denied cracking his ribs again in that last fight, but it wouldn’t be the first time the pig headed idiot had resisted admitting he needed help. With a sigh, she admitted to herself that they all had that annoying stubborn streak. She moved silently to his door. It was not completely closed. Warning bells went off in her head (sirens not having been invented yet).

She pushed the door open. She got a really good look at why Siro was moaning. For heaven's sake, why didn't he warn them he had a woman with him? For that matter, why hadn't he gone out, as was his custom, instead of sneaking her in? Taja looked back at the bed where the brawny ex-guard was obviously enjoying himself. The black haired woman pulled up and looked around. Eyes of glowing gold stared at Taja. She licked her red lips, catching a dark dribble down one side. There were sharp fangs in her mouth. Taja recoiled, stubbed her foot against a loose piece of masonry and went down, smacking her head against the banister at the head of the stairs. The yell of distress died in her throat as she fought not to lose consciousness. She lost the fight.

"Somebody shoot the bird," Taja mumbled into her pillow as several happy little songbirds cut loose outside her window. She snatched the pillow from over her tousled red hair and stared at the window. The sun was up, golden light filtering through the carved stone screen. Her eyes wide with shock, she twisted around in her bed, wondering how she had arrived there. The last thing she remembered was -- She flung her bedding aside and dove for the door. 

"Siro!"

"Yes?" he answered as he stepped out of his room. He looked her up and down appraisingly, an amused look in his eyes. The look changed as he read the concern, almost panic in her eyes. "What?"

"I -- Are you all right?" she asked lamely. How the hell was she going to explain to Siro what she had seen last night when he was standing there hale and hearty and probably hungry? "I - uh -- I guess I had a nightmare," she explained with a frown and realized she was standing there in something a lot less than her usual form of dress. She blushed hotly and retreated into her room.

Siro watched her retreat and shook his head. Nightmares. It was a wonder they didn't all have them every night. He took a deep breath, shook off the sudden feeling of lightheadedness and headed downstairs to find out what was for breakfast. Not that he was going to cook it, of course.

The day passed uneventfully, for which all three of them were thankful. They retired at a reasonable hour. Both Taja and Kung Lao found it odd that Siro did not go out to the local bar for a drink before retiring, but it had been an eventful week, so it wasn't too odd.

Taja awoke some time after midnight; the moon was setting on a dark horizon. Siro was moaning, again. She got out of bed with a purposeful move and went to tell him to stop sneaking his women into the house. Again, his door was not quite closed. She felt cold as she reached to push it further open. 

Black hair, alabaster skin gleaming in the darkness, golden eyes, fangs. Not again. This time Taja stood her ground and called Siro's name, or tried to do so. The golden eyes held hers. Her voice seemed frozen in her throat. The woman moved silently across the room until they were almost nose-to-nose. There was an aura of cold around her. Taja wanted to turn away, look away, run, shout, something, anything. She stood where she was as though rooted to the stone.

The woman reached out with one cold-fingered hand and stroked the side of Taja's face. Taja shuddered. Cold fear coursed through her. Color flared in her cheeks as a touch of desire also raised its head. The woman smiled, fangs gleaming against her dark lips. "Sleep." The word was more mouthed than voiced; yet Taja found herself obeying. Her lids slid slowing downward over her eyes and she slept.

The sun came up. The birds burst into song and Taja burst out of bed and out of her room, pausing only long enough to throw on her clothes and shoes. She half expected to meet Siro in the hallway. Nope. She tore downstairs and startled Kung Lao who was pouring water into the pot to heat for tea.

"Where's Siro?"

"He hasn't come down yet. What's wrong?" The Kombat champion knew she was worried immediately, yet he had sensed nothing this morning. Taja hesitated, then briefly described her "nightmares" of the previous two nights. Both headed upstairs. Nightmares frequently acquired a reality of their own, as both of them had reason to know. They found Siro leaning heavily against the jamb to his door. He was breathing oddly, as though he couldn't get enough air into his lungs. His eyes looked feverish, his skin pale. He met their searching gazes with a frown and then slid to the floor half conscious. His hair shifted slightly to reveal two inflamed looking marks on the side of his neck.

Taja and Kung Lao knelt down on opposite sides of their fallen friend, their eyes met in curiosity and horror. Taja had not been dreaming, but what was this? Neither one had ever heard of a vampire. They loaded Siro back into bed over his protests that he would be all right as soon as he ate and got some sun to warm him up. He shivered even as he spoke. Taja and Kung Lao made reassuring noises and looked worried. Siro subsided into a half conscious state, muttering about golden eyes and black haired beauty. They left quietly.

"Just like my -- It wasn't a dream. It happened. But why didn't I raise an alarm?"

"Good question. Whoever she is, she has powers she can use against us."

"So, now what do we do? She's killing him, slowly."

"I know. We find out what we're up against."

"Or who. Can we leave him alone?"

Kung Lao looked at the window nearby. "As long as the sun is up, I think we can. Let's go."

They set out to talk to everyone they could think of about the problem.  
Unfortunately, vampires were not well known in the land and there was no one in town that could enlighten them. One offered herbs for strength, another a time honored curse to remove unwanted intruders; a third dismissed the whole thing as fantasy. For once, Lord Rayden of the white hair and lightning eyes was nowhere to be seen. To a certain extent, this reassured Kung Lao. The worse the matter stood, the more likely the thunder god was to be around.

The sun was well on its way down past the horizon when Kung Lao and Taja met in the square just outside their home. The last of the merchants of the bazaar which was open every day were just packing up. Taja spotted the woman first. The blue-black mane of hair that hung loose to her waist and past was unmistakable. 

"You!" 

The woman froze at Taja's yell. She turned slowly to face the advancing warrior. Her face was still pale, but the eyes were a deep green, like fine emeralds in the sun. She was clothed in black from throat to wrist to ankles, soft black boots covering her feet and rising to her knees. She fell into a defensive stance as Taja and Kung Lao advanced on her. The green eyes tracked from one to the other and back. Kung Lao laid a hand on Taja's arm to hold her back. Something about the woman felt -- not wrong, but not hostile either, in spite of the stance. 

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"The name's Cheri. Who're you?"

"Kung Lao. This is Taja." The woman nodded to both of them. "Taja believes you have met before."

"Ah. Not the happiest of meetings, it would seem."

"What have you done to Siro?" the hotheaded ex-thief demanded, her hands clenched in fists.

"Who's Siro?” Cheri countered. 

"How can you --"

"Wait. Tall, fair haired, blue eyes --" Kung Lao intervened. 

"Sounds yummy, but not ringing any identity bells. Friend of yours?"

"Yes."

"In trouble?" She asked. 

"Yes. He's been -- harmed." Kung Lao was at a loss to explain exactly what had happened to the man, but that seemed to sum it up, however inadequately.

"You!" 

All three turned to face the new voice. When Lord Rayden voices all his disapproval in one word, it is worth paying attention. Cheri's eyebrows rose in inquiry. While she liked what she saw, the disapproval in the voice intimated previous acquaintance and she could not for the life of her figure out whom he was. Lightning struck abruptly. Cheri lifted her arms to fend it off. Fat lot of good that was going to do, she told herself. Wind and fury abated and she was still standing. She tousled her hair with a quick move of her hands, just to assure herself it was still there, and looked at Rayden curiously.

"I take it you think we've met before, too." It was a statement, rather than a question. She hoped someone would break down and do some explaining, soon.

"Who are you? What are you?" Rayden demanded, stalking closer. 

"In reverse order: technically immortal and the name's Cheri. And I would love to get my hands on whoever is going around impersonating – me -- oh." Her eyes lost focus for a moment as the answer to the question of who was annoying people and looked like her occurred to her. "Oh, my. I don't suppose you could have mistaken sort of blue-green eyes for green?"

"Green, blue-green -- try gold, glowing gold."

"Glowing gold? Good grief, not on my worst day. Honest. I don't even wear gold. Well, most of the time, I don't, anyway,” she chattered. 

Rayden slowly walked over, passing Kung Lao and Taja to come to a stop directly before Cheri who now had to look up into his eyes. They were a sort of dark gray and still not friendly. "How -- Not even an immortal should be able to stand my lightning."

"Well -- uh -- hmmm -- perhaps it has something to do with this not being my reality? I mean, maybe if the person is grounded somewhere else all that energy -- er -- dissipates elsewhere? Look, alternate reality theory is not my strong point. On the other hand, vampiric twins may be."

"What?" The word came from Taja and Kung Lao simultaneously.

"Vampiric?" Rayden sounded equally curious, his ire somewhat diverted by her words.

"Vampire? Blood-sucking undead? Uh -- hmm, not a concept. OK, in popular mythology where I come from, a vampire is a -- reanimated dead body. In theory, the reanimation is due to the extreme evil of the dead person, a desperate desire not to be dead, the possession of the body by a demonic presence once the soul has moved on, or a virus. The latter is a somewhat modern interpretation of the condition. Anyway, if your friend has a general lassitude, seems to have lost most of his healthy color and has a couple of unexplained scabbed over holes on the side of his neck, I'd say we had a very traditional vampire working on him."

"Then you know how to stop it?” Taja asked. 

"Uh -- well, sort of. I mean -- oh, now what???"

The *now what* was a whirling vortex that opened in the square, convincing the interested spectators left that leaving was a good idea. The vortex sat there for a few minutes as though thinking about things, spewed out one small, blonde, female figure and closed. The figure stumbled a couple of steps, righted itself and looked around. Her vampire sensing senses were not going off, so she surmised that the quartet of oddly dressed people in front of her were probably not vampires, or demons. She walked over with a confident stride; ignoring the panic sounds the back of her mind was making and introduced her self. "Hi. I'm Buffy. And you are?"

Cheri grinned at the girl, for girl it was. She couldn't have been much more than 16 or 17, with a self-confidence and assurance eons older. "Cheri Yuconovich. And these are Kung Lao, Taja and -- oh, didn't get your name before you started flinging lightening bolts at me."

"Rayden," he almost growled, frowning at the girl. He saw a young woman, yet there was the aura of both power and childhood around her. It was an unnerving combination. Rayden was off his stride.

Buffy nodded her acceptance of the introductions. "So. What's up?"

"A reality confluence."

Kung Lao and Taja looked like they didn't understand the words. Rayden looked annoyed. Buffy nodded. "OK. So, how do we, like, un-confluence it? I mean, that is what we want to do, right? This is a bad thing, to confluence?" 

Cheri sat on her instant desire to giggle at the Valley Girl expressions. "Excessively bad. More bad than I really want to try to contemplate at one sitting," she answered Buffy’s question.

"So, who do I kill?" Buffy inquired with becoming nonchalance that she wasn't really feeling. The dark haired guy and the woman with him seemed very competent types. The white haired guy was giving her the creeps the way Giles did sometimes. He was old, but he was knowledgeable and dangerous. It was a good combination, but it did things to one's spine at the most awkward moments. And he was powerful in a way that she could feel but not see. 

"At the moment, I'm not certain. I have a suspicion. I think it might be best if we go see the victim."

"You've got a victim?" Buffy asked, looking confused. 

"Among the living," Cheri assured her.

"What? How? I mean, like, that's -- not possible."

Cheri grinned at her. "Six impossible things before breakfast," she murmured. She turned to Kung Lao to lead the way. Taja followed behind the dark haired woman and Rayden brought up the rear, frowning and trying to figure out where he had lost control of the situation.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Siro was groggily watching the sun go down, his well-muscled torso wrapped in a blanket and shivering every few minutes. He could not for the life of him figure out why he was so cold. He'd tried to get up and go down stairs, but his legs were not cooperating. Rather than end up in an undignified sprawl, he decided to remain in bed. He had tried to call for Taja and Kung Lao, but his voice seemed uninclined to pass through his throat. He was thirsty, so thirsty.

He heard the entrance door open and close as though from a great distance. He was aware of footsteps on the stairs, of the door to his room opening. With a major effort, he dragged his half closed eyes away from the window and looked around. She was here. He didn't even notice the other four people, just the black haired woman. He smiled and reached for her. Luckily, she caught him before he hit the floor.

"You came back," he whispered. Everyone in the room could hear the love in his voice, the need.

"Yes, indeed. It's all right. I'm here now," Cheri responded softly. 

She searched his eyes for answers that his greeting had already given her. Yet she knew it was not herself who had attacked him. She smoothed his sweat soaked fine, pale hair back from his face. Yep. Puncture marks, right over the jugular. According to Taja, the vampire had fed twice from him. Three times a charm? Was the vampire trying to bring him across? To make him another undead, or just -- just what? This guy was borderline dead as it was.

"Why don't we get you downstairs to the fire? You look cold."

His eyes never left hers. "Not as long as you are here," he told her. 

There was no mistaking that hot glow in his eyes. The man was in love -- or bespelled to think he was she corrected with a mental grimace. 

"I'd like to go down. With your friends." That was not exactly what she had meant to say, but it would do until she untangled her thoughts and her tongue. She slid under his arm and helped him to his feet. He wasn't as heavy as she had expected someone as muscular as he was to be. Kung Lao helped him from the other side. Siro never took his eyes off Cheri.

Rayden held the door for them, Taja and Buffy, sizing each other up, brought up the rear. Buffy was of the opinion that Siro was dead, taken, a demon and should be staked like any other vampire. However, that did not seem to be an immediately useful option here, and she had been known to show reason even where dead things were concerned. Consider Spike and Drusilla. Consider Angel. No. Not the time to go there.

Cheri and Kung Lao settled the shivering warrior in a seat before the fire and pulled the blanket around him. Kung Lao made tea. Cheri saw to it that Siro drank it. There was a long drawn out silence.

"So," Buffy broke the silence. "Now what?"

Cheri looked around at her. "We wait for the problem child to show."

"Right. Wait is not what I'm good at. I really don't do *wait*," Buffy pointed out. 

"Sooo-- You want to go hunting?" Cheri asked. 

"Yeah. I find if I go after them, it shortens this *wait* thing. Then I can go home -- and, like, stake some more vamps -- There seems to be a flaw in this -- But I don't know where, so I think I'll go hunting,” Buffy told her.

"I'll come with you," Rayden announced. 

Everyone but Siro looked at Rayden. Cheri shook her head with a laugh. "Great. Storm lord and Slayer. This is one for the books -- if I just live long enough to write one."

The front door slammed open. Wind whipped through the room, lifting even Cheri's long locks. In the doorway, barely clad in frail black draperies, stood a tall, slender woman who looked exactly like Cheri, only less solid. Her fine bones were just under the translucent skin. There was no tracery of blue veins beneath that skin. Her eyes were wide and dark, almost solid black with no trace of iris around the pupil. She stepped in past the swing of the doors. They closed noiselessly behind her.

"You." It was a hiss, a denouncement. Her blood colored lips writhed back from sharp, wicked looking fangs. Her fingers curled into taloned claws. Her eyes glowed gold. Buffy flipped forward, stake in hand and was backhanded out of the way. The woman spared not a glance for the slight blonde slayer. She moved forward, ignoring all but Cheri. Buffy shook her head to clear the pretty lights and shiny twittering birds from her vision, and pushed herself to her feet. Rayden helped her up. He was frowning at the two women, so alike, yet so unlike.

"Hi, Tan. What's up?" Cheri asked lightly.

The vampire stopped at the matter of fact greeting. She growled low in her throat. "You are here. Finally, I will destroy you." The voice was reedy, hollow sounding.

"I don't think so. How'd you get to be a vampire?" Cheri's tone was conversational. It seemed to confuse the other woman.

"What?" The other woman seemed thrown off balance by Cheri’s questioning.

"How'd you become a vampire?"

"I -- was -- bitten," she said slowly. She frowned as though trying to remember.

"Ah. When?"

"What?" The vampire was having trouble following the rapid fire questions. 

"No, not what. When."

The vampire frowned. Buffy coiled to strike. Rayden placed a hand on her arm and shook his head. She relaxed and looked annoyed for a moment. Then she started paying attention to what was passing between the vampire and Cheri.

"When? Why does it matter? It is."

"Tanya, just answer the question. It's important. If you haven't been a vampire long enough, you can't hurt me," Cheri pointed out.

"What? I am death incarnate. I can touch anyone." She started forward again. 

Cheri stood her ground and shook her head. "Nope. Have to be at least a thousand years old to do in an immortal."

The vampire stopped again, the cant of her head shifted as she stared at Cheri and Siro and tried to force her brain to puzzle out the words of her enemy. "A thousand years," she whispered. She had not been a vampire a thousand days yet. All right, but she could finish the man. She moved forward again to find Cheri between her and her target. She growled and tried to backhand Cheri out of her way as she had the small blonde woman. The blow was countered. Even her enhanced strength could not move the murderer of her father.

The scream of an enraged hunting cat poured out of her mouth, fangs distended, face contorted in anger. She threw herself on Cheri, fingers curled to claw, her mouth searching for a hold, something to fasten onto, to rip out of the other woman. Cheri fought back as years of martial arts and hand-to-hand combat techniques had taught her. Taja and Kung Lao pulled the vampire off of her intended victim and tried to hold her. They were tossed away like sticks in the wind.

Siro, only dimly understanding that there was a battle being fought, stood and stepped forward. He fell under her onslaught, her fangs sinking into the flesh of his neck. He felt the lethargy, the sweet fall into her arms, into her need. He could feel the blood, his very life draining into her. He wanted only to hold her in his arms, to love her. He moaned softly, then bellowed in pain as she was pulled away. 

Rayden held the vampire. Cheri pulled the wounded man into her arms. The blood wasn't fountaining from his wound as she expected. His pulse was faint, erratic. His heartbeat was fading. 

"I need a knife."

"What?" Taja echoed the thoughts of all but the vampire.

"A knife. Now. You're losing him. A few more minutes and he'll be beyond all help."

"Except mine," Buffy inserted. She didn't mean to sound menacing, but a vampire was a vampire and it was her duty to exterminate the damned things. She didn't care for the looks everyone else gave her. Oddly, it was Cheri who didn't look particularly annoyed by the statement. "I think I'll just -- wait over here." Buffy gestured to an unoccupied area by the stairs and suited action to words.

Taja pulled her own dagger and, after a moment’s hesitation, handed it to Cheri. She was as aghast as anyone when Cheri took the dagger, slashed her own wrist and held the dripping wound over Siro's neck. The blood was thicker, darker than Siro's. The wound in his neck seemed like some strange battle ground as their blood mixed.

"Fast transfusion," Buffy noted her color a little off as she considered the possible problems with an impromptu and un-typed transfusion. She fought back a gagging noise as she watched fascinated. Siro's eyes fluttered open to see Cheri bending over him. His throat hurt, ached. He shifted against the pain. Cheri wrapped her arms around him as he convulsed. She held him hard, disregarding the pain in her wrist where there was still an open wound. He convulsed again. Once more, not as hard as the previous two. The wound in his neck was a red scar fading to white. His breathing settled as his muscles relaxed. His eyes opened again to look into the twin pools of emerald above him. He smiled.

"Hello," he said softly and reached up to brush a strand of black hair out of her face.

The vampire howled in frustration. She fought to break free of Rayden's grip. Vampire vs. Thunder God. It was an unequal battle. She was held fast. Buffy stepped forward; stake in hand, to finish things.

"Wait. Please," Cheri asked. 

The Slayer looked around at the immortal that was helping Siro to his feet. "Now what?"

"Well, technically, vampirism is a granting of immortality," Cheri pointed out.

"By a possessing demon, yeah. Your point?” Buffy asked, trying to follow a conversation she wasn’t entirely certain she’d heard all of. 

"What if the body possessed is already immortal?" Cheri pushed aside the *demon* part of this girl's explanation of vampirism. She'd worry about that later.

Buffy thought about this. She wished she had Giles available to consult. If one immortal took over another immortal -- it made her head hurt the way "if one train is traveling x mph on one track and another train is traveling y mph on another track, how hard do they hit each other" problems made her head hurt. "Your point?" She hated to repeat that, but she seemed to be missing something here.

"What happens when you stake a vampire?" Cheri prompted. 

"Dust. Ashes," Buffy answered. 

"Instant dissolution?" Cheri pursued her own thought.

"What?" Buffy sounded lost. 

"They disintegrate in a hurry?"

"Yeah. Poof. Very satisfying and not very messy. No icky carcasses to deal with,” Buffy agreed. 

"Ah. OK. Do it."

"Thank you." As though she needed permission.

"Noooooo!" the vampire howled.

Stake entered vampiric heart. Vampire howled. Demon howled. Body sagged? Body? Sagged? Huh? Buffy reviewed her execution and could find no fault with the entry of the weapon into the target. So, how come there was still a body? She released her grip on the stake to ponder the question. No sense in giving the thing a chance to get up and bite somebody while she was thinking. Body. "OK. What is this?" She turned to Cheri for an answer. There was something squirrelly going on here and Buffy wanted an answer. Now.

"Simple. Tan's already immortal," Cheri pointed out in a whisper, almost as though she didn't want the body to hear what she had to say. "Even demonic possession can't deny that. So, if staking causes the demon to go away, that should free her."

"We want her freed?" Buffy asked, trying hard to follow this line of logic. 

"As long as she isn't a vampire, yes,” Cheri answered. 

"OK. So, how do we find out if the demon's gone?" Buffy asked sweetly.

"Pull the stake."

"You pull the stake. I think I'll get back up. Just in case."

"All right." Cheri moved forward. Siro followed her. She stopped and looked back at him. Oh, dear. He had recovered from the wound, but he still seemed to be enspelled by her -- by the vampire -- it was a little confused, but there was no mistaking that look.

She reached out and pulled the stake out of the vampire's chest. It made that peculiarly nasty sucking sound that chest wounds can make. Nothing.

Cheri looked at Rayden. "You could probably put her down now."

"She's dead."  
"For the moment," Cheri agreed. 

Rayden gave her a very long look. "For the moment?" he echoed.

"Yeah. Chest wound. Major damage to the heart. Give it a couple of hours. She'll be OK. Well, as OK as she ever is."

"Great. You mean I have to stake her again?"

"No. I mean -- whoa." Cheri put out a hand to steady herself. Along with everyone else, she realized she was still bleeding from the self-inflicted wound on her wrist. Siro caught her and sat her down in the seat he had vacated. He gently bound up her wrist, his gaze never straying far from her face. 

"Better?"

"Uh, yeah." Cheri looked into his eyes and realized that he was still gazing at her in that faintly unnerving fashion. Not quite dog at a bone, but close. She looked away and found that Rayden was grinning at her, faint laughter in his eyes. She gave him a very old fashioned look. She turned her attention back to Siro. "Uhm -- Siro."

"Yes."

Oh, boy. How to give the poor guy the heave ho without too much damage to his ego. "Do you have any idea what happened to you?"

"I found you," he responded cheerily.

"Uh -- Not exactly." Where the hell was help with this sort of thing when you needed it? Taja was watching her curiously. Kung Lao was talking to Rayden. Buffy was being politely disinterested as she watched the body of the non-dusted vampire. "Look, you were attacked by a vampire."

"Yes."

"And you -- were convinced you were -- I mean -- you were ensorcelled." He thought about this for a moment and nodded. He remembered his desire for the vampire. He remembered thinking his world would end without her touch, her kiss, her -- bite. Rational thought was beginning to reassert itself, as much as it ever did. He frowned at the woman before him. "You believe that -- my feelings -- are --"

"Probably a hangover from the vampire's spell. I mean, we are pretty much identical in look --"

"But not in character," he assured her.

She grinned at him. "Well, no. You got me there. But we've really only just met, whatever your mind and -- well -- your body -- may be telling you."

He started to say something, and then really looked at her for the first time since they'd met. What had she said about immortality? Did that mean? He realized that it probably did mean that she was immortal also. What did an immortal woman want with him? Ignoring truly rational thought, he followed this side alley to its ultimate conclusion. She was trying very gently to tell him that his regard was not returned, that he could have no place in her life. He swallowed hard and looked away. "I --"

She touched his hand. "It's OK. I've gotta take her home, anyway. It's a long trip -- on one level." She wished he had looked back at her, but he didn't as he moved away, toward his friends. Oh, well. Tanya was going to be enough to deal with for several days; she really didn't need a lovelorn warrior, no matter how appealing he was. She sighed softly. Sometimes being immortal and Tanya's *twin* was damned inconvenient.

A heartbeat. One, two, picking up rhythm. Breathe. The first gasping intake of breath after having "died". Tanya's eyes snapped open. She was on her feet, gasping for breath, but crouched in defense, before anyone including Rayden could move. One glare around the room brought her attention to Cheri. With a scream of pure anger and frustration she threw herself at the other woman.

Buffy moved to get a vantage point to intervene. Rayden held a hand out to stop her. This was no vampire attack, this was pure rage backed by martial arts of a high order. Cheri defended herself adroitly. Letting Tanya "kill" her would end the attack, but she just wasn't in the mood for this nonsense. Cool thought prevailing over anger, Cheri got the upper hand and pinned her opponent against a wall.

"Quit it!" she snapped, sounding like a parent out of patience with a recalcitrant child.

Tanya bucked under her hands. "Let me go. I hate you."

"This is not news."

A noise of pure frustration escaped the other. "Let me go."

"Behave yourself?"

"As soon as I kill you."

"You can't."

Tanya took a deep breath and let it out. The sheer reasonableness of the statement took a lot of the wind out of her sails. "All right. I will behave," she agreed, her usual Russian accent becoming deeper than ever. 

"But not because you believe you have bested me. I chose not to continue the fight."

"Oh, great face saver. Maybe I oughta let the Slayer stake you again."

"What?" Tanya, freed, whirled to face the rest of the gathering. Eyes like aquamarines, hard and shiny, roved over the faces looking at her. She snorted her disdain for all of them, although she met Siro's gaze longer than any of the others. He was a strikingly good-looking man and she had a weakness for blonds. 

Outside there was a beginning to be familiar roaring noise. The square, empty of all people, was again the center of a whirling, eye-twisting mass of -- something. 

Cheri looked out the door and took it optimistically. "Ready to go?" She had to shout to make herself heard over the building noise of the vortex.

Buffy, still a little confused as to why she was wherever she was and wondering how annoyed the principal was going to be with her for missing whatever class she was missing, nodded. Maybe Giles could explain all of this so that she could explain it. She considered that thought for a moment and shook her head. Nyah. She took a breath and dove into the vortex.

Tanya Kropotkin took one last look around the gathering, decided anywhere was better than here, and dove after the diminutive blonde. Cheri also took a look around. She was almost expecting the vortex to disappear after Tanya went in. She smiled at the four remaining people, shook hands with Taja & Kung Lao, bowed respectfully to Lord Rayden and, speech being impossible over the roar of the vortex, impulsively pulled Siro into a kiss both of them would remember. With a wave, she followed the other two into the vortex.

On the other side, Buffy landed and rolled on the grass outside of Giles' house. A moment later, Tanya fell out of clear air, hit and rolled. She took one look around, discovered her hair had changed color and went to look for something to remove the abhorred color from her normally tawny tresses. Maybe she could shave her head, go punk for a while?

Cheri landed with a bone-jarring thud that knocked the wind out of her and made little stars and streaks of light dance in front of her eyes when she bothered to open them. "Ow."

"Giles!" Buffy greeted her Watcher as he came out of his house.

"Buffy -- er -- Buffy?" It was about seven in the morning on a Saturday, not a normal time for Buffy to be visiting her Watcher. 

"Yeah. I feel the same way." She turned her attention to Cheri. "Are you OK?"

"Uhm, I think so," Cheri answered without opening her eyes.

"Cheri? Cheri Yuconovich?" 

Cheri wasn't certain she liked the intonation of her name, although the basic accent on the basic voice was nice. She cracked one eye open to see if the stars were going in like good little balls of gaseous matter. Standing above her and a bit to one side was a tall, tweed covered man whose face was somehow familiar, though not at this exact angle. Cheri took a breath, released it and sat up. Nothing crunched; this was always a good sign. She got the rest of the way to her feet and still found herself looking up into the tawny hazel eyes of -- "Ripper?" she asked bemusedly.  
Giles looked pained. Buffy looked interested with a tinge of worry. The last time someone had called him that, Ethan Rayne had been mucking about in town and he was a real pain in ass.

"Miss Yuconovich. It has been some time, hasn't it?" The last was uttered as it dawned on Rupert Giles that Cheri looked, if anything, younger than she had the last time they had met, over twenty years ago. 

Cheri had the grace to look abashed. Oh, well. She'd never really gotten the hang of the quiet life, had she?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

"Well, well, well. I *do* run into the most interesting people," Cheri said with a yawn. "Oops.’scuse me. Sorry about that. Long night -- or something."

"Quite." Giles turned his attention to Buffy who was practicing her innocent *who me? * look. "Buffy?"

"Yeah? Oh, well. Uhm -- there was -- this -- thing. And it -- uh -- well, it kinda whirled and made a lot of noise and wind stuff and -- well, uhm -- it was kinda, like, totally gross, y'know." 

Giles made that sound that meant he wished she'd learn to communicate in English instead of teenager. His penetrating gaze was cutting through the layers of "distract Giles" she was attempting to put between herself and her Watcher. She looked at Cheri for inspiration.

"You know Giles?" she asked brightly.

Cheri grinned. "Well, sort of," came the response. "We've -- met. A long time ago. A very long time ago," Cheri added, feeling that this needed to be expanded upon. Only, then there was the slight problem with her not looking as old as he did. So, how long ago is "a very long time ago" when considered in the light of -- Cheri stopped that train of thought while it was still steaming at the station. Buffy had been there when she mentioned the immortality thing. Yipe.

"Buffy, don't you have something else to do?"

Buffy looked around, checked her watch and stared at it in incomprehension. How did it get so early? If she ran, she might just get home in time for -- her mother to wake her up. Ugh. Such is the life of a high school student and slayer. She grinned at Cheri and Giles impartially and ran home. This left Cheri and Giles to stare at each other and wonder just where to start this conversation.

"Well."

"Yeah."

"Are you all right?"

"Seems so. No bones broken or misplaced. No holes --" She stopped as she noticed that concentrated look focusing on her left arm. She looked down. "Oh. My. Look, a hole. Whoops." Admittedly, the slash across her wrist was only oozing at this point, but it was soaking through the bandage so thoughtfully provided by Siro.

"Perhaps you should -- um --"

"Giles. The sun is up. The likelihood of my being a vampire is kinda slender." She refrained from pointing out that even if she was a vampire, she could walk into his house without an invitation as her immortality would over ride her vampirism. Somehow, this did not sound like the kind of reassuring thing to tell him. She followed him into his home.

She was pleasantly surprised at the practiced ease with which he ministered to her hurt. The bleeding stopped. Gauze was applied and taped into place. She inspected the work with a critical eye.

"Very nice. So, what're you been up to?" She smiled up at him in a cheery manner. She was hoping to defuse him. It wasn't working. His eyes, that strange tawny hazel color that had intrigued her when Ethan Rayne introduced them to each other, were practically opaque behind his glasses.

"I'm - a librarian," he said slowly, watching her like the proverbial hawk.

"A librarian. Sounds -- rather --" A bubble of laughter demanded to be freed. Cheri giggled. "Actually, it sounds rather out of your line, if you don't mind my saying so."

"And just what would be *in* my line, " he asked softly, the soft tone making him sound no less dangerous.

"Oh -- world saver, watcher of the slayer's back? Watcher?" she ended with a puzzled frown. "Now where have I heard that before? It's official, isn't it?"

"Is it?" He turned away abruptly, removing his glasses, cleaning them and replacing them on his face before looking at her again.

"Oh, dear. I've thrown you off balance, haven't I? I am sorry, and I will try to stop giggling." She primmed up her face, only to be set off again. "Shoot. Maybe I won't stop giggling. I'm hungry."

"Breakfast?"

"Let me help?"

He regarded her oddly for a moment, then nodded. His kitchen was set up for his own use, but she seemed quite content to be the assistant and not the head cook. They rapidly turned out eggs, toast, bacon and tea. He was a little concerned over the amounts. The concern turned into understanding as Cheri wolfed down the larger portion of the breakfast. She caught him watching her and grinned. "Time travel does that to me."

"Time travel?"

She screwed up her face in thought. "Well, close enough for government work -- of course, I haven't worked for any governments lately, so that could be a problem. I think it was a time vortex. Buffy got scooped up and dumped there too -- who had the gall to name that girl "Buffy"? I mean -- yeek. What kind of a mind comes up with a name like that?"

Giles shoved away his own wonders about that and pointed out that Buffy's mother was a very nice person and apparently got carried away with the current vogue in names when she had her first and only daughter. Cheri looked at him like she questioned his sanity. Then she grinned at him.

"OK. I'll accept that." She gave an artistic shudder. "I don't understand it, but I'll accept it."

"So, what happened?"

"Well, Buffy discovered what happens when you turn a virtual immortal into a vampire and met a very nice storm god and helped save a potential combatant in a "win and you save the world" fight and -- that's about it."

Giles blinked. "Could you elucidate?"

"Probably. Let's see. The vortex snapped me up -- today's Saturday?" Giles nodded. "Thursday, I think. Dumped me in what looked kinda like a somewhere between Roman and Medieval period town in the mountains. Tanya was already there and I knew something was up, so I followed my -- whatever -- to find her."  
"Who is Tanya?"

"My -- cousin. Sort of."

"She's a vampire?"

"Not any more."

"She's -- immortal?"

"Virtually."

Giles was getting the feeling that Cheri didn't want to go into detail here. He also wanted to know a whole lot more. He started asking questions. By the time Cheri was finished eating, he knew a great deal more about both Cheri and immortality of the genetic variety. He also knew more about what Buffy had spent the night doing. Part of the night -- He'd unscramble that later.



Back with the Mortal Kombat crew, Rayden was keeping an eye on Siro for the time being. Something about the man had changed and Rayden was curious. Kung Lao was busily looking for warriors to train. Taja was running the trading part of things, which was keeping food in the larder. Siro was sitting on the roof staring out into space. Siro not being one for deep introspection or putting a lot of thought into things, this was odd. He was not asleep. He was not annoying Taja. He was not working out. He was just sitting there, frowning at the horizon.

Siro was trying very hard to put the events of the past few days into perspective. He was not having an easy time of it. He could not think of the woman who had helped heal him with out feeling heart sore. He knew what he felt for the vampire, the monster, was false. He could put that aside. Magic was magic and a man was not responsible for what magic could make him do or be. Yet the other one had given of herself, without hesitation, to keep him alive. A part of her was within him. Her blood had made him whole again, had kept him alive. He needed to thank her, to make her understand that his life was different now because of what she had done for him. How could he do that when she was gone?

He became aware of a presence behind him. Rayden was startled with the swiftness of Siro's movement. Was he faster? Rayden regarded the man before him calmly. Siro relaxed and nodded respectfully. 

"Lord Rayden. I did not know you were here."

"I did not announce my presence. You are troubled?"

"No. Yes. I'm not sure."  
"Let me guess. The woman Cheri."

Siro nodded. "Yes. She -- I expect Kung Lao and Taja to care what happens to me, to a certain extent. We have -- we have become friends. Friends support each other. I knew her -- sister? -- whatever the thing was, but I did not know her."

"And she gave of herself to save you. This puzzles you."

"Yes. The monks dedicate their lives to helping others. That is their way. But she is not a monk. She is not a friend -- is she?"

"Isn't she?"

Siro pondered this. "Perhaps. Still, I did not get a chance to really thank her. I would like to have done so."

"And, perhaps, find out if what you feel is friendship or something more?"

Siro colored slightly. Sometimes perspicacious gods could be embarrassing. He nodded in agreement. "Yes. I know she said it was left over from what -- from the spell woven by the other one."

"But you would be certain."  
"Yes. I -- I don't think I would enjoy living the rest of my life never knowing -- especially if there is never anyone else."

Rayden nodded his understanding. Yes, that would leave one feeling unfinished and unsatisfied. Briefly he wondered why he was concerned. He looked at Siro and knew. Siro, for all his faults, was a good man and a good companion for the Mortal Kombat Champion. Friendship has its price. Now, how was he going to get Siro to Cheri so he could figure things out?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

Once upon a time there was a community in California called Sunnydale. Sunnydale had a large population of teenagers, a high school, a high school librarian who was very attractive (in a gaunt, sometimes haunted sort of way), a principal who was something of a power tripping martinet (and looked a little like Quark from certain points of view), and a large contingent of vampires, demons and what-have-you's due to being a Hellmouth. Such is life in the late 1990's in California.

Cheri Yuconovich, sometime covert agent, sometime Dr. of archaeology, sometime employee of KEI, Inc., rolled over lazily and fell off the couch on which she had been napping since about 9am. The thud caught the attention of the gentleman across the room with his nose buried in a mighty tome of esoteric information. Cheri pushed her self up off the nose to rug position and into a sitting position. Her waist length hair fell in a curtain across her face. She blew out to move it. It lifted out from her face and fell back as she inhaled. Cheri giggled. It was that kind of day.

Rupert Giles, usually referred to as Giles, or Ripper, depending on his current associates, frowned at the juvenile antics of the woman sitting on the floor in front of his couch. He was still clad in a very nice tweed three-piece suit. "Are you all right?"

Cheri cocked her head around to look at him through the curtain of hair. "Well, my ego's a little bruised, but otherwise I'm doing well." She deftly used a finger to part the mass of hair impeding her sight and pushed it back away from her face. A couple of deft swipes with her fingers and it looked remarkably unmussed considering the mess it had just been in. "How're you?"

"I'm quite well, thank you," he responded automatically and then gave her a look. The look was tempered by a smile. "Are you planning on explaining why you look younger now than you did 25 years ago? Or am I to chalk it up to time vortex travels?"

"I thought I had -- sorta -- kinda -- if you look at it sideways long enough."

"That will do."

"OK. I'm immortal."

"That I had managed to understand. It doesn't explain -- I mean, unless you've taken T.H. White's Merlin to heart, you can't look younger."

"Well, that's part of the uncomfortable part of being the kind of immortal I am --" Cheri quit talking and frowned, listening. "Do you hear something funny?"

"Am I laughing?"

"No! Peculiar, out of place, odd -- like a rushing of -- Oh, Hell!" 

Cheri was on her feet and at the window before she finished her seemingly non-sequiter sentence. Outside, on Giles' front lawn, was the beginning of a vortex. Giles joined her at the window. The whirling darkness was growing. It was not a soundless, peculiar spatial distortion, it was a twisting, turning cyclonic movement that seemed to widen as they looked.

"Something's coming through."

Lord Rayden, Thunder God, mentor of the Champion of Mortal Kombat, champion of the cause of earth versus OutWorld, was dazed. He'd been contemplating the plight of Siro, ex-guard, companion of the Immortal Champion, all around have-a-good-time-guy, when he heard/sensed this odd sound. Having a time vortex sneak up on you is not nice. He was being sucked into the thing before he could move out of its way. 

Siro, hearing the peculiar noise and not managing to identify it from several nights earlier, came around a corner and walked smack into the thing. His senses rebelled at the distortions of time/space/other as he was slammed through countless eons and onto the already flattened grass of Rupert Giles' front yard. 

Giles was beginning to wonder just how much abuse grass could take. The woman at his side was beginning to wonder just how much distortion the time space continuum could take before things got really out of hand. 

She left Giles staring at the two newcomers and went out to greet them. Rayden had managed to land on his feet. Siro had landed badly and upon attempting to get up, his abused senses decided they had had enough and caused him to abruptly add the contents of his stomach to Giles' lawn. 

"Oh, dear."

He knew that voice. He tried to look around swiftly. Not a good idea. He heaved again. He felt her hand on his back. "Keep your head down. It'll settle in a few minutes." He could hear laughter in her voice, but it was gentle laughter, the kind someone who had been there might use. He almost nodded, but settled for keeping his head still.

Cheri looked at Rayden curiously. "Hi."

"Greetings."  
"Not your idea, I hope."

"No."

"Hmm. OK. Any idea whose?"

"No."

Cheri found him remarkably calm and cheerful for someone who had just been picked up and dumped many moons from his own place and time. "You don't seem unduly disturbed."

"I'm not. I'm certain there is a purpose."

"Yeah, right." Cheri sounded skeptical.

"You *know* these people?" Giles was sounding incredibly stodgy. But then, Giles was in the position of a tweedy librarian/researcher/Watcher who has just received a vaguely oriental robed, white haired, dark eyed man on his front lawn, out of an apparent cyclone; and his leather booted, tights clad companion who was being distressingly ill on said lawn. Siro, his nausea quelled, stood up. He was not quite as tall as Giles, but he was about half again as broad. Muscles rippled on his arms and across his chest, barely concealed by the sleeveless tunic/vest he wore instead of a shirt. Giles was almost wishing he had remained Ripper Giles and had Ethan Rayne on call to help out.

"Sort of. Lord Rayden," she gestured to the white haired but not elderly one in the robes. "Siro," she nodded to the golden haired, dark eyed man. "This is Rupert Giles. He is a very learned man, well versed in the occult realms of my world and a font of wisdom for his youthful charge." 

Giles blinked at her. Her introduction had been delivered quite deliberately and quite solemnly. He nodded to the two men. "Rupert, this is Lord Rayden, the Thunder God. And this is Siro – who doesn't seem to go in for last names. He is a martial artist, an ex-body guard and is currently both companion and student of Kung Lao, the last winner of the Mortal Kombat tournament."

Rayden and Siro returned the nod. Siro felt a little embarrassed by the introduction. Rayden was taking it in stride, so he decided to emulate the Thunder God. "Goodness." Giles felt the word left something to be desired, but he couldn't really summon up enough words to do his feelings justice -- well, not polite words, anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

California -- home of sun, sand, blonde hardbodies and fun. And Harleys. Willow Rosenberg was sitting on the front steps of her home wistfully watching a vintage Harley percolate past. For once, neither Xander nor Oz was in her thoughts. The motorcycle and its rider were keeping her fully occupied. The rider was bronzed, longhaired; denim clad and looked like he was looking for something. He must have noticed the wistful little red head watching him as he turned at the top of the street and cruised slowly back before coming to a complete stop at the end of the walkway leading to her house. He pushed the shades up off his face and smiled at her. Willow wondered if her knees had really turned to water or if it was just her imagination. She stood up. Good girls didn't talk to strangers, especially dark, dangerous looking strangers with impressively tattooed shoulder muscles and sweet smiles. Willow disregarded her good sense and walked down to see what the gentleman wanted. After all, wasn't she a slayerette? Hadn't she and Xander and Cordy and Oz staked majorly mean and nasty blood sucking demons, in the absence of the Slayer? Wasn't she old enough to take care of herself, like the good little witch she was? She gazed into his kinda hazel-y blueish eyes and decided that maybe she wasn't, but he didn't look all that dangerous.

"Uh -- hi," she said softly, her expressive eyebrows raised in inquiry over her doe brown eyes.

"Hi. I'm lost."

"Oh. That happens," she agreed somewhat unhelpfully. "So, like, where were you going?"

"I'm looking for Vine Street."

"Vine. Vine? I don't think there is a Vine Street in Sunnydale."

"Sunnydale?" The man frowned, but not at Willow. "This is Sunnydale?" 

"Yes."

He looked like he didn't quite know what to make of this. He pulled a map out of his saddlebags and stared at it for a moment. "How did I get here?" he wondered, mostly to himself.

"On a Harley," Willow couldn't quite help saying, envy and awe tingeing her soft voice.

He looked up from the map, saw her admiring look fastened on his pride and joy and grinned. "Yeah. But that wasn't exactly what I meant."

"Oh, sorry. But, like, there are signs, y'know. Good signs -- Sorry. It's Sunnydale. Sometime you find yourself talking like an idiot without meaning to -- unless it's Xander, of course."

"Xander?"

"Friend of mine. He manages idiot even when he's not here. Not that I mind," she was quick to assure him. "I mean, like, Xander and I grew up together -- I'm babbling. This is, like, a bad thing. Sorry."

"It's OK." His voice was reassuring, although his look was a bit off. He was beginning to wonder how to get out of this conversation, even if the young lady was as endearing and pretty as she was.  
"So, like, where did you want to be?" 

He showed her on the map. "Oh, wow. You really are off in the wrong direction, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Funny thing, the signs all kept heading me this way."

"Prank? Especially nasty prank?" Somehow, Willow didn't believe this for a moment, even as she said it. Something of her own thoughts must have shown in her face.

"Very," he agreed slowly. "I'm Vince Black," he introduced himself, a thoughtful look on his face. He had a feeling that he was here for a reason. Vince Black liked to follow his feelings, even when they did cost him bounty money. Vince was a bounty hunter working for Sixkiller Enterprises. He was also a wanted ex-cop named Reno Raines. He had a sixth sense for problems. Of course, in Sunnydale, that sixth sense could get him worse than dead.

"Willow. Willow Rosenberg," she responded. They shook hands. "It's early. You could probably get there before dark. Even if you stopped for lunch."

"Probably. What's the fastest route out of town? What is that?" 

The "that" in question was the heaving, twisting black vortex that was busily dumping Rayden and Siro on Giles' lawn. Willow stood there with her mouth open for a fraction of a second as she took in the cyclonic shape. "Tornado? In Sunnydale?" She seemed bewildered by this. Then it occurred to her where that tornado was touching down. "Giles!" she yelped and took off at a run. 

The Harley roared behind her, pulled up to pace beside her and his gesture offering a ride was all she needed. She slid into place behind him, wrapping one slender arm around his waist, she pointed out where they needed to go. 

The twister was gone as they pulled up. Giles was ushering his new guests into his home. He turned in the doorway to see what was arriving now. His eyes gleamed behind his glasses at the classic Harley pulling up in front of his house. Then he frowned as he recognized the windblown Willow dismounting from behind a total stranger. Willow ran over to him while Vince shut off the motorcycle. 

"Giles! You -- You're OK?" Willow sounded worried. This was not unusual. She gave the Watcher a quick visual once over to make certain he was in one piece. "I mean -- there was this -- uh -- thing. Like a tornado -- only quiet -- and picky --" she ended frowning at the obviously intact Giles, house and yard. "And -- non-destructive? I think I'm confused."

Vince walked up behind her, remarkably quietly for a man shod in cowboy boots. He and Giles took measuring looks at each other. If there had been a sign flashing "dangerous" over each man, it would not have been out of place. Willow shivered slightly at the currents passing around her.

"Oh. Giles, this is Vince Black. He's lost -- I mean, he got -- well, it's odd."

"Mr. Black," Giles acknowledged the introduction with a nod. He seemed to be doing a lot of that this morning. He might have said more, but his attention was claimed by the hot red sports car pulling into his driveway. 

A tawny shagged version of Cheri stepped out of the car and stalked up to him. She looked him up and down with an almost disdainful sneer. 

"Where is she?" the woman demanded.

"Where is who?"

Giles did not intercept the hand that shot out and grabbed him by the throat, although he did manage to get a hand on the wrist attached. She was strong, very strong as she bore him backward against the doorframe. 

"Do not play games," she ordered. He recognized the accent as vaguely Russian on the elongated vowels. "Cheri. Where is she?"

"Try looking to the side --" Cheri landed a fist on the woman's chin as she looked. 

Tanya Kropotkin released Giles and nearly went to her knees from the force of the blow. She came up with murder in her eyes. Unfortunately, Giles was between her and the object of her anger; and Vince was stepping in to corral her. His arms were strong and warm around her, trapping her own arms at her sides.

"Let me go!" 

"Not until you promise to behave."

There was a choke of laughter from behind Giles. Both men looked at her oddly. "Uhm -- sorry. I have a friend with a very odd sense of humor. Her response to that request is usually to point out that Have was a sex maniac." She chuckled again.

"Most amusing," came Tanya's derisive response.

"Hey, I just repeat 'em, I don't make 'em up."

"Just as well."

"No attacks, for the moment?"

"As I am outnumbered, I will not attempt to finish what is between us. Agreed?"

"Agreed. I think you can let her go."

"You trust her?" Vince asked. 

"About as far as I can throw her underwater -- on Jupiter. But, she has never broken her word, so far as I know. And I know she has been mightily tempted -- by me."

"OK." He released her. He wondered what it was about this little town that seemed to produce so many really lovely women all at once.

Inside, Rayden was observing. "The other one is back. Although she seems to have changed her hair color."

"What?" Siro stepped to the window. His heart felt on fire for a moment. Tanya, tawny haired, clad in denims and a silk shirt, made his heart ache. She elicited responses from the rest of him as well. He turned away from the window. He had believed it when he told Rayden there was no feeling for the monster. But this was no monster. This was the woman who had become the monster and then -- his head began to ache from thinking about it. He felt Rayden's hand on his shoulder. Their eyes met. Siro nodded. He was here for a reason. He hoped they would find it soon and then return to their own place and time. This was getting to him.

Giles looked at the two newest additions to what he was beginning to classify as "his menagerie". "Do come in. As though my neighbors didn't have enough to worry about."

Willow smiled at him reassuringly as she stepped past him. "Maybe Buffy --" she started and then stopped dead in the doorway. Her eyes were drawn to Rayden even as his eyes were drawn to her. Power recognizes power. "Oh." Willow's voice was at its softest.

"Willow, move."

Willow recalled herself with a start and moved into the room, though not very far. Siro's muscular bulk was intimidating, especially as he seemed to be with the white haired man who was positively radiating energy. 

Rayden took it upon himself to move forward and welcome the child into the gathering. His hand was warm in hers as he led her over to the couch. She sat, never taking her eyes off of him.

Vince stepped into the house after Tanya and Giles. The room seemed very full. He nodded at Siro who returned the salute. The two of them were drawn to each other as the only non-mystically oriented people in the room. Giles saw to the introductions for those who needed them, Willow and Vince, to be exact. The room was practically vibrating around him. 

Cheri looked as though she recognized his worry. "Well, what a house full. Any ideas?"  
"Ideas?"

"About why we've been joined by --" she waved a hand to indicate the people in the room.

A knock at the door forestalled his need to answer. "Now what?" he muttered testily, but he knew the answer before he got the door open. Xander, Oz and Cordelia stood on his doorstep looking curious. Well, to be accurate, Xander and Oz were looking curious and worried. Cordelia was looking bored and demanding to know why she was being dragged to the librarian's house, again, on Saturday.

"*Do* come in," Giles accepted their presence with what good grace he could muster. The living room was getting crowded. Oz looked at Willow looking at Rayden looking at Willow and frowned. 

Willow looked around at him. Her face lost its fuzzy, oblivious look. A joyous grin lit her face and she bounced off the couch to greet him. "Oz! It is -- like -- way too weird. I mean, beyond Sunnydale normal weird, y'know. It's like -- some kind of -- really dangerous -- *thing* --." She stopped. He was looking at her in that bone melting seriously paying attention way that he had. She smiled happily and accepted his hug. 

"What kind of *thing*," he asked.

"I dunno. I got to ride the Harley out front. D'you like Harleys? I do. It was -- well, it would have been better if there hadn't been this black whirling tornado thing in Giles' front yard. And if I could drive -- or if you had -- but it was seriously cool. I mean, like -- wow." Willow's burble died down.

**************************************************************************************************

Not far away, as the crow flies, a group of marginal mystics with just enough ability to get into trouble were staring at the demon they'd inadvertently conjured up. Most of the group was seriously aghast at the manifestation. The thing reached out and grabbed the gibbering leader of the group, melded forms with him and then shook itself. The man had always been handsome and slimy, but now he was more so. He smiled. His mouth seemed to have more and sharper teeth than any human. He reached out and ran a familiar hand over the full body of his nearest follower. She trembled at his touch, fire and ice at war within her. Fire was warmer. She allowed herself to be drawn to him. He wrapped an arm around her, kissed her willing mouth, nuzzled the side of her neck, licking at the sensitive skin below her ear. She shivered with delight. She died happy as he ripped into the side of her neck, draining her lifeblood in a fraction of the time it takes to tell of it. He dropped the drained and nearly mummified husk to the floor where it crumbled away to dust. Two of the remaining members fainted. "Now, where was I?" he rumbled, smiling at the panicked people around him.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Vince Black looked around the crowded living room and wondered what the heck he was doing here. He met the really green eyes of the amused looking woman across the room and joined her. She grinned at him.

"You look really out of place here," she said softly.

"Yeah. I think now that I've delivered the young lady I should best be leaving."

"Probably safer than sticking around. You could get your world view really bent if you hang around here for very long."

"Right." Somehow, he didn't really sound as though he believed her. He slid quietly out of the room and reclaimed the Harley. 

Giles heard the motorcycle start and looked out the window. He frowned. The young man had, well, not been quite as young as his charges and a great deal more comprehensible on some levels. There was something about him. Well, he was probably a great deal better off out of the area. Giles turned his attention back to the bursting at the seams living room of his home. He continued to frown.

Cordelia, in her usual way, had started to sum up the two female members of the peculiar gathering who were not a part of her immediate life, as older, uncool types to be ignored. However, upon reviewing the looks that the possibly cool guy with the motorcycle and the equally possibly cool guy with the bulging biceps and blondish surfer cut hair were giving the black haired one, she was revising her estimate when the motorcycle guy left.

Cheri looked around the room and grinned. The grin elicited several raised eyebrows. "Well, it isn't often I get to look at a room full of semi-supernaturally supercharged types who are all looking lost." She looked at Giles. "I don't suppose you've got any ideas? I mean, Buffy arrived to help with Tanya when she was a vampire -- come to think of it, how did you end up being a vampire?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"A necessary one?" Cheri shot back brightly.

"I got bit. I died. I came back -- well -- I mean -- I'm not certain what I mean. There was -- uhm -- something?" For once in her life, Tanya Kropotkin was looking bewildered as she tried to sort through her memories of being a vampire in the universe of Mortal Kombat. 

"Demon," Giles and Xander supplied simultaneously.

Cheri looked at them in surprise. "Demon?" she echoed.

"Yeah, that would probably explain it -- if I believed in demons, of course," Tanya agreed in an off hand manner. "Which I don't, of course. Although, it was definitely an unpleasant sort of entity."

"You seem surprised," came Giles' comment.

"Well, yes. I've -- met a couple of vampires previously -- they weren't demons."

"They weren't?" Oz and Giles and Xander and Willow and Cordelia, in unison.

"No. They weren't. Didn't particularly look like they'd been smacked in the face with ugly sticks, either."

"You're kidding," Xander voiced the feelings of the rest of them.

"No. Actually, there are a couple of activity centers of the other kind of vampire. Oh, most of them are annoying on one level or another. I mean, they all have this thing about human blood -- luckily, most of the other type are willing to forgo hunting and stick with second hand supplies. Which the demon type don't seem to be particularly interested in doing."

"No. Kinda rip your throat out kinda guys."

"Yeah. Anyway, I was kinda curious about why Tan stayed a vampire for so long." Cheri realized that the vampire slayers were all staring at her again. Rayden and Siro and Tanya weren't aware of her having said anything out of the ordinary.

"And how does one *not* stay a vampire?" Giles asked, although he wasn't entirely certain he wanted an answer.

"If you're already immortal, the other kind of vampirism is -- well -- kinda like a virus? And since dead is an unacceptable state of affairs, genetically speaking, it fixes itself. Uncomfortably, of course."

"Of course," Giles echoed. He was looking stunned. Vampirism as a curable death was an extremely odd concept.

"How?" Willow asked, ever curious.

"It itches."

"Itches. Like -- poison ivy?" Willow sought clarification.

Cheri thought for a moment. "Yeah. If it was inside and throughout every centimeter of your circulatory system."

"Do I hear a resounding 'euwwwww" here?" Xander asked, making a face at the very thought of that much itch.

"My thoughts exactly, and I had to cope with it."

"How?" Oddly, it was Rayden who asked. All of this was both new and interesting to the God of Thunder.

"Hot water. I sat in a 120 degree Jacuzzi for hours until it was over. Kinda lobsterish when I got through and went and seriously damaged the idiot who started it. We got to be pretty good friends afterwards."

"Friends? With a Vampire," Cordelia chimed in. "I don't believe this. There is someone besides Buffy who is "friends" with a vampire. Euwwww! That is like so --"

"Cordy, hush," Xander stepped into the breach his beloved seemed intent on creating. "So -- where does that leave us with -- uh -- Mr. stern and long haired and Mr. Biceps, here?"

"I dunno. RI -- I mean, Giles?"

"I've been - er - thinking about it. At the moment I really don't have -- um -- a clue, I'm afraid. Although I believe I'm with you on the probably momentous character of -- er -- whatever."

"Gee, Giles -- that was encouraging," Xander chimed in. "The only thing missing is Angel."

"It's daylight, Xander. If he's not at my door by 15 minutes after sundown, we can probably relax," he responded dryly. He was only half joking. Giles was a great deal more worried than he looked. He was expecting Angel and some cryptic warning on his doorstep as soon as the vampire could manage to get out of his digs and safely to said doorstep. He had mixed feelings about dealing with Angel, but even his help could be useful if things were going to get as interesting as he anticipated. Now, if he could just get an inkling about what they were going up against.

"Willow."

"Yes!" Ever appreciative of being noticed, Willow brightened when Giles addressed her. Willow was as close to heaven as she anticipated getting for a while, Oz holding her hand and Giles needing something. "What?"

"I believe we need to research the possibilities --"

"Oh -- like -- research. OK. Uh, Giles -- the computer's not here."

"I know, Willow. Neither is most of my research material. I believe it would be best if we went to the library."

"Oh, yes," Willow beamed, then her face fell as she realized it was Saturday. "But -- I mean -- it's like Saturday. How do we get in?"

Giles sighed. While his young friends were quite capable of breaking into the school if needed, he pointed out that being the librarian; he possessed a key to the doors. Willow seemed much happier with this thought than with the one about breaking and entering.

The biggest problem seemed to be transport. Rayden and Siro were not going to be left behind. Oz volunteered to transport Willow, Siro and Rayden along with the two he had brought with him. That left Cheri and Tanya to accompany Giles. They settled who was driving by insisting they take Tanya's car. Giles tried to object and was introduced to the back seat by a firm hand between the shoulder blades. Cheri grinned at him over the back of the front seat as he righted himself and fastened his seatbelt. 

"Do you know where the school is?" he inquired.

"No. But I presume that your young friends do and I am following them, da?" Tanya's accent was getting thicker. It was an interesting sign. Trouble was on the way and she could sense it.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Vince Black found himself on the edge of town with a broken bike. He started to get really annoyed and then decided there was no point. He found a deserted warehouse to wheel the bike into so he could take a look at what was causing the problem. He found two clogged lines after a couple of hours of work. He got the bike back together about the time the sun started down. In the nearly deserted warehouse district, the vampires were beginning to come out to play for the night.

Vince finished off his bottle of water, tossed the container in a 55-gallon drum serving the area as a trash receptacle and threw his leg over his bike. He never really saw what hit him and took him down onto the concrete hard. There was a pain in his neck like a couple of icepicks plunging through his skin. He felt the drain of his blood flooding out into the vampire's mouth. He was lightheaded, the picture got fuzzy. He felt his attacker let him go. He hit the concrete hard. He tried to move, tried to get a look at his killer, tried to speak. It went dark.

Above him, one of the lesser of the night’s demons looked well satisfied with her work. The Master would be pleased at this addition to his legions. She left the body where it was. It should be interesting when the man awoke to his new state. 

His eyes snapped open suddenly. It was dark. The Harley stood next to him. He picked himself up off the ground, shaking his head. He felt -- odd. His head buzzed slightly. He staggered, putting his hands to his head and brushing his hair out of his face. He stared around him as though he was unfamiliar with the place. He was. He heard a sound. Movement. His face shifted as the demon took control. With swift, lithe movements he went after his prey. A derelict, unfamiliar with Sunnydale, lurched into view. Reno Raines smiled, his fangs glinting in the pale light of the stars. He was hungry. The derelict would not rise again, Reno was careful to break his scrawny neck. He wiped his mouth on his hand and went back to the Harley. Man, this was the life. He laughed at the thought. It was not a nice laugh. The Harley snarled to life. Maybe there was some nightlife around here. Somewhere he might run into the red haired girl he recalled from the afternoon. What a nice morsel she would make.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Darkness fell. Buffy shivered. She could sense something off about the night. She could feel trouble. Buffy felt something she usually ignored when she felt it, afraid. She shoved the fear aside. After all, she was the Slayer, wasn't she? She jumped as someone knocked at the door. Joyce opened the door.

"Faith. Hi. Come in. Haven't seen you for a while."

Faith nodded a hello and bee-lined for Buffy. "B. We have a problem."

"This is unusual?" Buffy shot back. She sighed mentally. No matter how hard she tried, she had problems with the brash girl in front of her. Faith was, technically, no older than Buffy. Slayers tended to be mid to late teen years.

"No. I mean Big Trouble."

Buffy could hear the capital letters. This was odd. Faith didn't usually talk in caps. "How so? Have you told Giles?"

"There's a new bad ass in town and I haven't seen Giles. I went to his house but he wasn't home."

"Ah. Willow." Buffy called her best friend and found that she was not home. She called Xander. She called Giles. She called the library. She didn't expect anyone to answer but wasn't surprised when Giles did so. "Oh, Giles. Hi. You thought you'd let me have the day off?" she inquired brightly.

"Ah -- Buffy. Er --no. Just -- we don't know what it is -- yet. We're at the library."  
"We're coming."

"We?" Giles asked empty air and a line gone dead sound. "We," he muttered. Angel? The door to the library swung open and shut. Giles wheeled to face the newcomer, his face going distressingly blank.

Angel stopped just inside the door and nodded to everyone. He hesitated. He could see the anger, the hate, the desire to stake-the-vampire flaming in Giles' eyes. He understood the desire. There was a part of him that didn't blame the man one bit; he knew just how evil he could be when he was Angelus. But, Angel wasn't suicidal just at the moment, so he waited.

"Well, one more," Giles said softly. He got a firm grip on his desire to do bodily harm and gestured for Angel to join them.

Tanya looked up from the book she was holding. She put the book down. This was more like it. Siro was nice. That was the problem. Rayden, well, Rayden was just a bit mystical for her. But here was a young man who looked like he could be a bit of fun. She moved to greet him.

"I'm Tanya Kropotkin." She looked directly into his eyes and smiled. Angel was struck by the deep aquamarine blue of her eyes. He smiled.

"Angel."

They shook hands. She looked down at his with a slight frown. "Don't tell me -- " she looked up again. "You're a vampire?" There was no sting in the words, just a touch of intrigued amusement.

He nodded. It was a hesitant admission. Her reaction threw him. No revulsion. No allure. Just matter of fact. She tucked her arm through his and drew him to a seat at the table, but slightly away from the others. She noticed Cheri's ironic look from behind the computer console where she and Willow were net surfing.  
"So, what brings *you* to our little soiree?"

"Yeah," Xander seconded the question with more than a little sarcasm in his tone.

"I -- I'm not sure." He was frowning. "Something happened -- this afternoon. There's someone new. Some *thing* new. I don't know. But the whole town feels -- odd."

"A new Master?" Buffy asked from the doorway. She spotted Angel next to the tawny woman she didn't recognize, did a slight double take and put two and two together. Great, ex-vampire with vampire with-a-soul. Buffy's eyes got a little green and then she sat on the jealousy monster. After all, Angel was *just* a friend, a very good friend, a very close friend -- an ex-lover who -- Lose this train of thought, she told herself sternly. It goes nowhere.

"Something like that. I'm not sure. Just that it arrived today and that -- that the Hellmouth is about to be very active." Angel had a peculiar blank look on his face as he said the latter. His voice changed.

"Oh, very active," another voice said, a smooth, slimy voice. "The Hellmouth hasn't had a work out like this in years. I plan to have a lot of fun, Slayer. And there is nothing you or the bitch with you or the godling can do to stop me. Oh, yes," he turned his eyes on Rayden. "Oh, yes. I know you, Lord Rayden of the Earth Realm, Guardian and Mentor of the Victor of Mortal Kombat. The Emperor of the OutWorld is soooo glad you're not there. You and that fool with you." He grinned at them, a leering, distinctly non-Angel leer. "While you are here, they are alone, together and they are in danger."

Rayden's face, seldom relaxed, grew stonier with each sentence. He was not the protector of the last winner, just his mentor. Yet without his guidance, as ignored as it sometimes was, Kung Lao could and did manage to get into a lot of trouble. Of course, he usually managed to get himself back out again, with the help of his friends. Only one of those friends was here, with Rayden, instead of where he should be, at Kung Lao's side.

Rayden took a step toward the possessed vampire. (There was a part of Buffy's brain that was having problems with this scenario. Technically, a vampire was a dead body possessed by a demon. In Angel's case, he had a demon and his soul -- and now another demon????? The part of her brain devoted to logic, luckily a very, very tiny part given her destiny, was making funny little snapping and crackling noises, smoke rising from the circuits as it attempted to deal with this situation. Equally luckily, no one else seemed to be noticing.)

Angel looked at the Thunder God. His own normally soulful dark eyes were glittering with unholy power. Rayden's eyes took on the baleful glitter of lightening. Giles began to worry about the flammable possibilities in a library full of relatively elderly reference works. "Ready to take me on, godling?" he hissed.

A slender, surprisingly strong hand on his throat prevented his rising. He turned to stare at Tanya. Something in her eyes coupled with the increasing grip on his throat broke through. Something flickered. Angel was again Angel and looking worried. He carefully did not lift a hand to defend himself. The grip loosened. Tanya smiled at him, leaned forward and kissed the startled vampire. Well, startled for perhaps a few seconds before that kiss worked on raising his body temperature and his libido all at once.  
Giles cleared his throat. Tanya disengaged and looked around. "Yes?"

"Somewhere else," he said pointedly.

Tanya tsked lightly and grinned at him. Giles was the more attractive of the two, but he didn't seem susceptible, not like the vampire was. She sat back in her chair, keeping a possessive grip on Angel who couldn't make up what was slowly coalescing back of his mind as to whether he objected or not. He refused to look at Buffy.

"OK," Buffy broke the tension. "We have a new player in town. Giles. Do we know anything else, yet?"

"Er -- mmm -- no. Not yet."

Willow and Cheri made simultaneous "eureka" sounds, although over different things, both of their computers having located items for which they were searching. Cheri grinned at Willow. "You first."

Willow beamed and then frowned at the screen. "OK. I've got tornado vortices with time/dimension traveling -- stuff -- " she ended uncertainly. "Well, they've been reported. They exist -- like we didn't know that -- and they tend to -- well -- transport things and people. Usually to very important points in time -- so, like we now have confirmation that it's happened before, but it doesn't tell us why now." She looked around at the faces around her. "Does it?"

Giles didn't know whether to be relieved or appalled that Willow had apparently missed the entire conversation with not-Angel. "And you?"

"Me -- I've got our motorcycle riding friend -- one Vince Black a.k.a. Reno Raines, bounty hunter, wanted for murder of a fellow police officer and ostensibly connected to Sixkiller Enterprises. Now -- by what Willow says, Mr. Black/Raines got to Sunnydale via the highways of our land with a bunch of mis-marked highway signs. Unlikely that someone he is after is out mucking about with highway signs -- do we agree?"

Everyone except Rayden and Siro nodded. After all, they weren't certain just what the woman was talking about.

"OK. So, we have a new demon in town. We have Mr. Black/Raines deliberately delivered to us, or to Sunnydale, anyway. I sense some sort of connection. By the way, who are the two newbies, relative to the group? Hello, Buffy."

"Hi. That's Angel. This is Faith. We try to keep them separated."

"Ah. Uhm -- you're both -- uh -- "

"You're sounding like Giles."

Cheri grinned and looked Giles up and down. "Sound like, OK. Look like -- not gonna happen. So, any ideas on where to locate the new bad guy in town?" Cheri, blessed with an incredible ability to split her attention between two or more things, had caught the interview with the possessing vampire.

"We hit the usual places. Interested?" the latter was to Faith.

"Couldn't keep me away."

"We'll come with you," Siro called, heading after them and followed by Rayden. Both Buffy and Faith gave him a look. The one questioning his sanity, the other just sizing him up. They both nodded. Buffy would try to look out for them. Faith figured she could use them as bait.

The street outside was quiet. Very quiet. Extremely quiet for a Saturday night. Buffy and Faith split up and headed for their favorite patrol areas. Siro followed Buffy. Rayden hesitated for a moment, recalled that Siro was nearly as good as Kung Lao and followed Faith, at a respectful distance.

Two hours later, the four met outside the Bronze. No vampire activity had met them. Faith was looking annoyed. She didn't mind the old guy following her, although he was certainly silent spooky enough, but she hated getting all that adrenaline pumped for nothing.

"Hungry?" Buffy asked.

"Not yet."

"Hmm. Me neither. Frustrated."

"Yeah. Shall we?" Faith gestured toward the Bronze. It was always a good place to check for younger vamps. At Buffy's nod, they headed in. Inside, things were as usual. The band played. People danced, drank and did teen things. Some of them did older than teen things. Neither Slayer sensed any vampires in the place. How dull.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

"Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh, wow." While it was said in slightly differing tones, Oz was wondering if Willow had gotten stuck in a groove. Willow looked up, her dark eyes looked huge, horror struck. "Oh, wow."

"Uh -- yes. But what?" Giles prodded gently.

"Uhm -- " she looked back at the screen. "You -- you remember how the Master was -- well -- getting out, but kinda -- like -- take over the worldish? Well -- this is worse."

Giles walked around behind the girl and took a look at the screen. She was right. It was worse. It was insane. And this from the point of view of one who normally dealt with items the rest of the world would dub insane. Not good. He resettled his glasses on his face and did a thorough read through of the information. Cheri, not wanting to add to the overload on the spatial area, pulled up the same info on her screen and did a quick scan through. She laughed.

Giles and Willow looked at her. Laughter did not seem appropriate. She met their gazes with her usual not quite straight grin. "It's a game."

"What?"

"A video game." Just about everyone in the room was looking at her like she had lost her mind. She chuckled. "Look. Video games are big on the martial arts thing right now. Mortal Kombat , NightStalkers , that kind of thing. This is obviously older than the vidiot age, *but* what they're describing is a tournament."

"A tournament? This is insane."

"Uh -- demons? Y'know, this isn't any crazier than a normal day in the Hellmouth," Xander chimed in.

Giles frowned at the young man, then relented. Really, it didn't make any less sense than some of the other things that had happened in Sunnydale. "So -- recommendations?"

"We let the fighters take it on. Oh, hell! Reno! He's a martial artist, as well as those other things. But why -- we've gotta find him. Tanya -- Tanya, get your hands off the man and come on. Besides, the blond's out there somewhere."

Tanya glared at her. Cheri grinned back. Tanya slid her hand out of Angel's and joined her almost twin as she headed out of the library. After a moment, Angel headed after the two of them with a slight nod to Giles in passing. Giles looked after him with a combination of good riddance and worry. What if the other one possessed him again? He gave the material a quick read through again. Yes. There would be a battle. But where? And who?

Reno Raines dropped his second victim of the night. He looked quite satisfied. Something was drawing him to the other side of town. He followed the call.


	8. Chapter 8

:Chapter 8

The mystics were sitting around trying to figure out how to get out of town before their numbers dwindled any farther. Four of their original number were dust. Two were now sporting fangs. A number of extremely unwholesome types with fangs and bad attitudes had joined the mystics at the command of their possessed leader. Of the original twelve, only six were left and they were feeling that their days were numbered, no matter what happened.

George Giancomo Felton had been babbling off and on about some sort of contest. The prize, as they were beginning to understand, was pretty intense. To lose would also be intense. He kept muttering something about the mines of OutWorld. He looked up as one of his new recruits walked in.

Even among the vampires, Reno was impressive. He was tall, well muscled and good-looking, in an aggressively unshaven manner. He looked around the room as though he owned it. He nodded to Felton and walked across the room to him.

"You wanted to see me?"

Felton smiled and placed a hand on Reno's shoulder. Without seeming to exert any force at all, he took the man to his knees before him. "Yes. I wanted to see you."

There was no fear in Reno's eyes as he looked up at the demon. Curiosity, yes. Fear, no. Death had ceased to hold any fear for him. "What do you want me to do?"

"Win."

Reno smiled. It was not a nice smile, although it didn't seem to have nearly as many teeth as Felton's did. He nodded. "Win," he repeated.

Felton released him. He stood up and looked around at the mystics. Felton shook his head. These were the strongest of the group. For now, he needed their powers. "Your opponents are coming. Fight them well. The entire world is ours for the taking."

Reno smiled more broadly. As far as he could tell, the world was already his for the taking, but it couldn't hurt to hedge his bets. He went outside to wait.

Rayden also felt drawn. He took the lead over the two slayers as they moved toward the area where Felton wanted the showdown to happen. Rayden could feel the build up of energy he had felt before. Momentous things were in the wind. Then he realized that this was the arena for conquest. The EarthRealm was in jeopardy. He stopped so suddenly at this realization that Buffy and Faith both ran into him.

"Lights -- signals -- something," Buffy chided. "Hello? Any one home?"

The look was one that had thrown fear into any number of people through Rayden's life. Lightning played in his eyes. Storm clouds began gathering overhead. Siro looked around for cover.

"This is no laughing matter." Rayden's voice seemed to have deepened and developed one of those ominous echo effects.

Buffy took a deep breath and released it. "No. It's not. But neither is my every day life. I laugh, or I cry, or I don't get my job done. I am *not* good at this lock-it-up thing. OK? Besides. From the back, I couldn't tell. Now. Where do we go? Who do I slay?"

"*We* slay," Faith chimed in.

Rayden looked from the girls to Siro and back. These were children. He needed trained fighters. He needed Kung Lao. But Kung Lao was somewhere, somewhen else. He inventoried his people. Siro, hotheaded, impetuous, but well honed in the arts. Buffy, young, untried (in his eyes), survivor, slayer. Faith, hot headed -- well, a female version of Siro with less training. Of the others, Cheri and Tanya -- immortals, but fighters? Giles, Willow, Cordelia -- non combatants. Xander? Oz? He knew nothing of them. They were in trouble.

When were they not in trouble, as the Slayer had pointed out? He nodded and continued on. Buffy and Faith exchanged "what the?" looks. Siro stopped holding up a building by leaning on it and followed Rayden. A fight. This he understood.

Giles tried to send the scooby gang home. Cordelia thought this a good idea. Xander, Oz and Willow looked mulish. The slayer might need them. To do what, they had no idea, but if they could slay (in a pinch), then they could at least lend their support to the Slayer in this endeavor -- whatever it was. Somehow, none of them really believed that the fate of the world was going to rest on some silly fight being won or lost. It just didn't make sense considering how complex the previous world threats had been.

Cheri and Tanya could have enlightened the gang, but they weren't there. They were arguing about whether Angel could fly or not.

"Ladies." They both looked at him. "I can't fly."

"Why not?" Cheri demanded. "I mean, what's the point if you don't get some good out of it?"

"I don't think *good* was what the demon had in mind."

"Oh. Right. Demon. I keep forgetting about that. I mean, it is so *weird*."

"Weird? Why?"

"Huh? Well -- Look, once upon a time I ran into a number of vamps who -- well, they were a little more traditionally vampy -- " She realized she had lost the poor man. "Ok. They could fly. They don't get the yucky forehead malformation." Angel shifted into vampire. "Yeah. That." He shifted back. "And they can fly -- or levitate rapidly -- or something. Anyway, it acts like flying."

"They're not demons?" Angel said wonderingly.

"Nope. Demonic, some of them. But not actually possessed. It's kinda like -- "

"Boring." Tanya stopped the car. "Quit discussing foolish distinctions and tell me which way to the problem. I want to kill something. Now." There was a dangerous edge to her voice, a dangerous gleam in her eyes and neither of the others felt like disputing with her.

Angel closed his eyes and tried to find Buffy. There. He pointed. The car took off again.

It was Willow, ably navigating for Oz, who spotted the motorcycle. The distinctive flame motif on the gas tank was what caught her eye.

"Oh! Look! It's the Harley."

Oz eyed her narrowly. Was it just the Harley, or was the rider attractive to his red haired witchy girl? After all, there had been the unrevealed Xander attraction, which seemed to have died out completely after one illicit kiss. Come to think of it, Oz wasn't certain he felt the kiss was all that illicit, these days. On the other hand, Cordelia was sitting in the back of the van ignoring Xander and Giles while still complaining about coming along at all. Oz was beginning to think the complaints were a smoke screen for a somewhat lonely, if fashion conscious, existence. Hadn't the SAT scores proved Cordelia was far more than the vapid face she turned toward the outside world? Deep thinking Oz was tempted to contemplate the possibilities -- but not right now.

Something hit the top of the van hard. Oz hit the brakes. Whatever it was slid across the roof to end up hanging upside down over the windshield. Hair. Glowing eyes. Fangs. Vampire! Cordelia shrieked. Willow pulled back. Reno's eyes found hers and he smiled. Well, well, well. The little Harley lover. Couldn't he just make love to her? Yeah. He just might not break her neck. The guy at the wheel, on the other hand…….

Oz shifted into reverse and did a quick serpentine maneuver back the way he had come. Reno fell off the van. Oz shifted back into first gear and headed for the fallen vampire. Not quite fast enough. Oh, well. They were -- going to run into that little red sports car!!!!! Willow shrieked. Xander yelled. Giles looked like he could use some peace and quiet just before he hit the floor. Cordelia looked exasperated and long-suffering. Oz hit the brakes and prayed.

Tanya hit the brakes, and, with far less tonnage to stop, refrained from parking her car under or into the van. No one had reminded her of the hazards of driving in a town with vampires with the top down on her car.

Reno appeared by driver's door, reached in and pulled Tanya out of the car. He wasn't quite prepared for the fight she put up once she was out of the vehicle. He dropped her, reeling from the flurry of punches she was raining on him. He shook his head and waded in again.

Angel launched at the other vampire from the back seat while Cheri decided she might want to make certain the slayerettes and Watcher were all right. Angel had time and experience on his side. Unfortunately, Reno had training in both the modern military and police on his side. Angel went down, unconscious. Tanya, not as fascinated by this entire fight-the-vamps thing as her companions, slipped into the shadows and bided her time.

When the fight erupted, the slayerettes, contrary to logic and Cordelia's arguments, piled out of the van and into the street. It isn't often a 400-year oldish vampire and a brand new vampire tangle. (As Reno hadn't been a vampire that afternoon, the math was simple) They were inclined to pile right back in as Reno downed Angel and headed for them.

He blew past Cheri and grabbed Willow over the objections of her companions. He caught her eyes and held her gaze. Like a rabbit caught in headlights, the doe eyed girl froze. Her heart was pounding like a trip hammer. Her brain was trying vainly to think of something to say, other than "put me down" which didn't look to be too effective just at the moment. She chided herself mentally for getting out of the van without a stake. Not that the stake would have done much good with her arms pinned to her sides the way they were. She saw his smile. His eyes flickered from the warm hazel-y blue to glowing. His fangs distended. That was *not* a nice smile.  
Lightning slammed into the wall next to them. Reno turned his head just far enough to look at Rayden from the corner of his eye. He laughed. "Looks like the fight's about to start," he commented. "Drinks first."

Blood. He could smell blood. The deep rich scent overpowered the smell of the girl, her fear, her innocence. Siro, Buffy and Giles were all staring at Cheri dumbfounded. She had found a jagged piece of metal and slashed her arm open. Blood flowed copiously from the self-inflicted wound. What the hell was she doing?

"Reno!" Her voice was a whip crack in the sudden silence.

His head snapped around. He loosed his grip on the girl, dropping her to the ground and went for Cheri. Faith, ever ready, tried to catch him as he moved across the open area. He backhanded her, almost carelessly, away. He grabbed the open wound and buried his face against Cheri's arm. Faith had recovered and Buffy joined her in heading, stake in hand, for Reno's defenseless back. Cheri moved between them. Her eyes dared them to try to move or go through her, a challenge Faith might have accepted had Buffy not laid a hand on her arm. Buffy was remembering what Cheri's blood had done for Siro. But Siro hadn't been a vampire.

"4, 3, 2, 1," Cheri counted down quietly. "Let go. That's enough." She got a good grip on Reno's hair and yanked his head back. Instinctively, he opened his mouth, releasing her arm. She let go and stepped back from him, her gaze fixed on him. Buffy could feel the tension in her even at a distance.

Reno growled and started for her. Then his face changed. He looked puzzled. He frowned. A flash of pain crossed his face. "What have you done to me?" he demanded in a snarl. He dropped to the pavement, curling in on himself in pain. Agony shot through his body, starting in his chest and radiating out through every vein and artery. He screamed and writhed, trying to curl into the tiniest ball he could before he finally gave up and passed out.

Faith stepped forward to give the coup de grace only to be stopped by Cheri. A single shake of her head. Faith frowned.

"What is with you people? He's a vampire. Dust him."

"He's not exactly the same vamp he was five minutes ago. And I'll take care of him."

"Right. And lover boy's waking up. What a great slayage evening."

Which was about when Fenton and the rest of the vampires erupted.

"Oh, look. Trouble. Never a dull moment," Buffy quipped and quickly took a defensive stance. There had to be a couple of dozen vampires crawling out of the woodwork. How were she and Faith going to kill vamps and protect slayerettes with this many of them?

"Got a spare stake?" a faintly Russian lilted voice inquired. Tanya tossed the cigarette she was idly smoking onto the concrete and crushed it out. Buffy tossed her a stake. She might have been a vamp once herself, but Buffy had a liking for the tawny haired woman.  
Cordelia, realizing that a real fight was eminent, started passing slayer equipment to the slayerettes outside the van. Siro and Rayden fell into fighting stance and proceeded to give the vampires attacking them all the trouble they could handle.

Buffy and Faith soon found that Tanya was extremely adept at killing, even if it was with an unfamiliar tool. 

Between the two of them bouncing and flipping and staking, Tanya's competent if quieter style of killing and the distractions to the vampire's provided by two major martial artists of the old school and the slayerettes and Giles, there were soon only two vampires and Fenton left facing the Slayers and their companions. Fenton growled at the two girls and fled the body he had borrowed just as Faith and Tanya caught it in a double stake vise. Dust. The other two decided discretion was the better part of valor and ran.

Buffy, somewhat winded by all this exercise, leaned on Oz's van and gave the age-old statement: "We won," she panted. "I think."

Angel groaned and sat up. Cheri, now that the fight was over, slid down the wall to sit beside the completely limp Reno Raines. Giles walked over and squatted down next to her, his eyes catching hers.

He reached for the arm she was cradling. She'd spent the fight holding the wound closed as best she could. It wasn't bleeding as profusely as it had at first, but she was still steadily losing blood. He pulled out his handkerchief, folded it precisely and began to wrap it around her arm. He got a warm smile for his efforts and a slight shake of the head. He frowned.

"You're dying."

"Yeah. It happens."

"I thought --"

"I am. It's -- awkward," she said softly. She sounded tired. Her eyes went to Reno and back up to Giles. "Duct tape his wrists and ankles. Wrap him in a blanket and stick him someplace dark. It's gonna be a while before he's up and about again, and it's gonna take some care to get him through the next set of adjustments."

"Soul?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Never having had one, I dunno. But I can guarantee he'll handle it much better once he gets used to it."

"And if he doesn't."

"He'll have used up -- all -- his -- chances --" Her voice got lower and slower until she leaned into Giles with a sigh and went limp.

He checked her pulse. None. Heartbeat. None. Respiration. Nothing. He felt an incredible surge of anger. A shadow fell across the two of them. He looked up into Tanya's face, his own very grim. She grimaced and shrugged her shoulders.

"Load her in the back seat." She looked at Reno. "Load them both in the back seat. I will take care of it."

"You wanted her dead," he started.

She was down beside him, her face within centimeters of his own. Her eyes sparkled with anger. "Yes," she spat. "I want to *kill* her. I want her dead. But it is not going to happen. This --" She lifted Cheri's head with one hand and let it drop again. "This is temporary. This is *nothing*. This is a nap after playtime. Two, three hours. It will be as though nothing has happened. No scar, nothing. Me, I know. Put her in the car."

She stood up as abruptly as she had faced him. "You." she called Angel's attention away from Buffy. "You put him in the car. You have a place that can accommodate us?"

Angel hesitated, looking at Giles who ignored him. He nodded. "It's not --"

"It will be better than his full living room. Come on."

If Buffy was disappointed at Tanya's commandeering of Angel, she didn't show it. She was too busy making certain her friends were all right, including Cordelia who was annoyed because she put a pull in her jeans.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Reno Raines had crawled off into a really dark part of his head to get away from what was happening to him. He hurt. Pain was not a stranger, but this was beyond anything he had ever felt. He had been beaten, stabbed, had bones broken, been shot, wrecked his motorcycle and landed badly when jumping off and over things. He'd suffered occasional road rash, sunburn, well, the list wasn't endless, but he thought he'd felt about as much pain as your average mortal could handle and survive.

Maybe that was the catch. He wasn't your average mortal any more. He tried to categorize the pain. Maybe that would help. Acid flowing though his veins. Fire, molten lead, lava -- every centimeter of him felt like he was burning and being eaten alive simultaneously. When he couldn't scream any more, he became unconscious. Only, he wasn't, exactly. He was locked inside his head with a demon. A demon that looked like Reno Raines. It was the most terrifying thing he could recall having happen to him. He was crazy. That was it. This was all some psychologically screwed up fantasy.

Only he knew better. He remembered the feeling of having his throat torn open, of his blood flooding out to feed another demon. He remembered waking up. He remembered enjoying the fear he struck into the hearts of his victims, as few of them as there had been. He remembered enjoying the killing, the blood. He felt revulsion for himself that few people ever get to feel. The demon laughed at him.

"Shut up."

The demon grinned. "I didn't say anything."

Reno looked away and looked back. The demon was a disfigured version of himself, a heavy ridge of bone and skin diving between its cold eyes. He took a really good look at it. Was that how he looked to others? Was this what he had become? Was this a reflection of his soul?

The demon grinned. This was wonderful. They would survive whatever that blasted woman had done to them and they would continue. Reno would accept the demon, become the demon. Lightning struck the demon and it writhed in agony. What was going on?

Reno watched curiously as blue tongues of energy lapped around the demon. Another bolt struck, this one wrapping itself around Reno. It startled him, but it didn't hurt. Why wasn't he in pain the way the other part of him was? Evil. The other part was evil. Whatever the lightning was, it did not like the demon. Curious, Reno reached out toward the demon. Energy played between them like the strikes in a tesla ball. The demon writhed in its bonds. Tentatively, Reno considered consciousness.

Pain. Nerve endings writhing in change, alteration. Nope. Not a good idea yet. So, the options were talking to himself, watching the demon being tortured and -- there wasn't another option.

"There's always another option, buddy."

"Bobby?"

Reno slammed to his feet and whirled looking for his friend. Wait a minute. Reno thought about this. "I'm inside my own head. Bobby's not here." But that wasn't exactly completely true. His memories of Bobby were here. Memories could be hard to deal with, but there were some good memories in here, too; memories the demon could not access. He could stay there while his body sorted itself out. Reno hated to walk away from anything, but he sensed that whatever was happening to him, there was no way for him to control or guide it. He would deal with what happened when he could. For now, memory lane was looking really good.

The demon screamed in anger as Reno vanished from its sight. No! Reno was his! This body was his! The demon tried to fight the invading force that was slowly trying to push it out. Pain. It howled. It screamed. It turned and twisted, contorting into inhuman shapes as it lost the battle between the physical form of vampirism Cheri carried in her blood and the demonic possession. The DNA altering semi-viral blood component did not like the damage the demon did. Souls meant nothing to it, but it liked its host to be as perfect as possible. And that included some intriguing alterations to blood serum, digestion and other autonomic systems. The demon did not need a circulatory system that functioned. The virus did. Reno's heart pumped, once. The surge of blood through his system was a shock to the demon. Distracted, the demon lost his grip on the body. With a final scream, it left.

Angel, sharing the watch with Tanya, realized that the other vampire had stopped twitching. He was tired and stood over the body for a moment longer before deciding he could probably get some sleep himself now. He turned away, then turned back. Quite distinctly, he had heard a heartbeat. He listened. Nothing. He shook his head and turned away again.

Tanya looked up from where she sat brooding over Cheri's body. The youthful looking vampire looked dead on his feet. She smiled. Of course, he did. He *was* dead, after all. "Get some sleep," she said quietly.

"He's quit twitching."

"Good. Maybe he's dead."

Cheri's eyes slammed open. She took a huge gasping breath; choked, coughed and gasped again, filling lungs that had been silent for several hours. Tanya's hand on his arm kept Angel from going to her, holding her. He tried to decipher the cold look on that faintly tanned face. Disdain, hate, too hot. Feeling his scrutiny, she looked at him. A cold smile curved her lips.

"It's not the first time. Nor the last," she said flatly. "She doesn't need coddling."

Cheri rolled onto her side and glared at Tanya. But it was a knowing glare with a tinge of humor. "Need, no. Appreciate, yes. You are a piece of work, aren't you?" 

It was just a phrase, nothing more. Angel watched as Tanya's face went white. She trembled with the force of some emotion he didn't quite understand.

"How dare you." The words were hard with suppressed -- what? He had never seen anyone as hard, as cold, as terribly hurt.

Cheri looked up at the other woman in consternation, then dismay. She scrambled to her feet. "Tanya -- you know I didn't mean it that way. You *know* I didn't."

"Didn't you?"

Angel shied away from the venom in that low voice. He backed away from both of them. He had a feeling that his sanctuary was about to become very unsettled.

"No." The answer was flat, no nonsense.

Cheri met her sister's gaze solidly, unflinching. Tanya wanted to deny what she saw there, to believe that Cheri would deliberately hurt her with her words. But she knew better. Her own gaze dropped away and she relaxed. She turned away, walking the length of the room away from Cheri. Her emotions were shrouded again.

Angel looked back at Cheri. Remorse. A touch of sadness. He felt that she wanted to reach out to the other woman, but something prevented it. He was tired. He closed his eyes, running a hand over his face and rubbing his temples. His senses were on automatic. He heard their heartbeats. Odd. They were slower than normal. Odder. They were synchronous. His eyes snapped open and he looked from one to the other. He closed his eyes again. Absolutely synchronous. Two hearts literally beating to the exact same rhythm. He had never heard anything so eerie.

Angel shook his head. He needed sleep. He went to bed leaving the two women to their own devices.

Cheri checked on Reno. He was lying there so still, so pale. She touched his cheek. Cold. No breath. No heartbeat. Well, at one every ten minutes or so, it would be difficult to detect. He seemed less uncomfortable than he had the last time she had seen him. He wasn't struggling against his bonds. Well. If he woke up at nightfall, they'd see. Blood. They needed blood. She looked around for a phone. She took a really good look around. A church????

"Well?"

She looked up at Tanya. "I'm starving."

"Shall we?"

Cheri looked from one sleeping vampire to the other. She nodded. "Yeah. I think we can. Besides, I need to make a couple of calls."

Giles was not as startled to see Cheri as he probably should have been. "Good morning."

"Hi." She smiled at him then leaned forward impulsively and laid a light kiss on his mouth. "Well. You didn't immediately back off. I guess that's good."

"Sorry. You startled me. Do come in." He backed up and let them in.

"Phone."

"Uh - there." He pointed. Cheri pounced on it and started dialing.

Tanya sauntered in after her. She looked Giles up and down again. Interesting bones. Very. She smiled. The warmth managed to reach those astonishing eyes. "Could we possibly get some breakfast?" she asked sweetly. At his nod of assent, she maneuvered him out to his kitchen, leaving Cheri alone to make some odd arrangements.

Tanya and Giles wandered back into the living room with their cobbled together breakfast -- an amazingly good smelling and looking cobbled together breakfast -- just as Cheri finished her calls. She looked up, sniffed and smiled.

"That smells wonderful!"

There was relative silence as the three ate. Giles had to admit, the food was good. His surreptitious glances at Cheri did not go unnoticed. Finally, she laughed. "Ask."

"I -- beg your pardon?"

"You have questions. Ask."

"Er -- yes." He frowned. What *did* he ask? "You were -- er -- dead."

"Yes. Technically."

"Technically," he repeated. "That would be the problem, wouldn't it?"

"If I was normal, yeah. I'm not."

"How -- I mean -- if you --" Giles was beginning to lose himself in a morass of half finished thoughts.

"It's OK. Tanya doesn't care for the logic, but it works. Genetically speaking, I am *technically* *virtually* immortal. Why all the hedging? Well, there is, theoretically, an amount of damage from which I will not regenerate. My immortality is owed strictly to my genetic code. Because of it, I am literally more alive on a cellular level than your average human. My oxygen usage is different -- more functional, I think. Anyway, I try to avoid ground zero for explosions, fires, burning roofs are not something I care for very much."

"So, being drained of most of your blood would not do more than -- cause a shut down?" Giles analyzed thoughtfully.

"Right. Apparently the brain is the *most* important item. Everything else can go -- well, not all at once, but most of it's been damaged at least once. I've got some very trustworthy friends who did some research on me at one point. I won't bore you with the details, but they figure I'm optimally survivable to at least 72 hours of not being visibly, or measurably alive. Brain function remains stable with no life support, nothing else functioning. It's pretty scary, but it gives one a lot of confidence to keep going."

"And if a demon possessed you?"

"You *do* come up with them, don't you? Well, two things in my favor. One, the basic system is not going to give up. Demon probably wouldn't be in control -- well, not very often, anyway. Two, in my personal case, I've been the other kind of vampire."

"What?"

"Remember what I said earlier? Last night? Maybe it wasn't you. There seem to be more than one kind of vampire. The ones I know, the ones I've had some interesting run-ins with, are not demons. I carry the seeds, so to speak, of that kind of vampirism within me. I get shagged by one of them and it takes about 20 minutes to go from normal to vamp. Definitely set some kind of record with that. I have only suffered what *they* call First Hunger, once. Intense, but livable. And the regeneration is part of why my friends settled on 72 hours. I get about that long at full vamp status and the itch sets in. Yuck."

"So, your theory is that this *substance* in your bloodstream will -- what?"

"Give Reno a handle on the demon."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll release him to whatever lies beyond. It's the least I can do."

"Not necessarily," Tanya stepped into the silence following Cheri's pronouncement.

"What?" The word came from Giles and Cheri in unison.

Tanya looked from one to the other and back. She laughed. "He is attractive. I do not see that his destruction is necessary, even if the demon is not exorcised -- that is the correct term, yes?"

"You want a demon running loose?"

"No. But, he can do very little to me, and I might just find him useful. If he is not -- what, "goody little two shoes"? when he awakens, I will take him."

Cheri looked astounded, then thoughtful. No matter how she looked at it, she could find little fault with Tanya's plan. But then, she knew what Tanya did for a living. Giles didn't. She checked her watch and left Giles and Tanya arguing the merits of her taking on the vampire Reno Raines *might* be.

Cheri went back to Angel's place to check on Reno. She walked quietly across the empty floor. Angel was still out. She turned and looked down into Reno's eyes. They glowed softly golden, fangs protruding slightly from beneath his upper lip. There was a knock at the door. Leaving Reno where he was, Cheri went to the door. Ah, yes. Special delivery. She signed for the crate of long necked green bottles and had the deliveryman leave the crate just inside the door. She handed him a generous tip and closed the door firmly on the man's curiosity.

She took one of the bottles out and popped the cork. The pungent smell of blood filled Reno's senses. He strained against the tape holding him captive. He was starving. Cheri knelt down beside him, put one surprisingly strong arm around his shoulders and carefully helped him sit up. She held the bottle as he drank -- guzzled was a better word.

When he was about two thirds through, she pulled the bottle away. His upper lip pulled back from his teeth, but his eyes were on her. He did not struggle.

"How do you feel?"

"Hungry."

"Normal. I'm going to cut your wrists free. Hold still."

He did so. It was good to have his arms unpinioned. He took the bottle in his hands and drained the rest of it off while Cheri got a second one. She handed it to him. He downed about half of the bottle and stopped on his own. There was still a tinge of hunger around the edges, but his raging need was gone. He looked up at her, into those ageless green eyes.  
"What did you do to me?"

"Gave you a chance to be yourself again."

"Right. I'm drinking blood out of a bottle. I'm remembering memories that aren't mine. I've got fangs. I haven't got a heartbeat," he started carefully enumerating the oddities of his current condition. "I'm -- I'm --" He found that saying "I'm a vampire." was a lot like Bruce Wayne trying to tell Vickie Vail he's Batman. Picture but no sound.

"You're a vampire."

"That makes me evil -- doesn't it?"

"It gives you the physical prowess to pretty much do what you want to do -- within the limitations of the existence. Power corrupts."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," he ended the quote thoughtfully. "So why don't you kill me and get it over with?"

"Power also begets responsibility. I guess what I need to know is how responsible Reno Raines can be. Can he handle being a vampire and all that entails, or is he going to let it go to his head?"

"Knock! Knock! Knock!" There was a raucously British? Australian? Cockney? voice at the door.

Cheri looked at the door. Angel was piling out of bed. He knew that voice. What the hell was Spike doing at his door in the middle of the morning -- er -- afternoon -- whatever? He slammed open the door. Spike, under a heavy smoking blanket, with his arm wrapped around a diminutive dark haired female in somewhat old-fashioned garb, snarled a hello at Angel and demanded entrance. Angel invited him in.

They entered, disposed of the blanket and looked around. Drusilla, for it was she of the slightly cracked outlook on life and ability to see possibilities, bee-lined for Cheri. Cheri dropped into a martial stance. Reno, sensing danger, smashed the empty bottle and slashed at the tape still binding his ankles with the sharp shard in his hand.

"Well, look who's here," Spike snarled. He was staring at Cheri. "The one what got away."

"Hello. Spike, isn't it?"

Drusilla looked from Spike to Cheri and back. She drew back. "Trouble. I can smell it. Trouble." She finally saw Reno who had managed to cut through the tape but was having a hard time getting it to let go of his boots. "And more trouble," she added in that disturbingly fey tone she could get.

Angel made a disgusted noise. He and Spike discovered the crate simultaneously. Both grabbed a bottle.

"One," Cheri told them. "There's more on the way, but that has to last for the next two days."

Spike snarled around the mouth of the bottle as he took a drink and handed it to Drusilla. Reno got to his feet beside Cheri, his very golden eyes roaming from one vampire to the next. The scent of the demons churned his stomach. Cheri laid a hand on his arm and shook her head.

Angel took in the reaction. "It worked," he said softly. For a moment, he longed to do the same. But his demon was old and crafty and Angel was laboring under an odd gypsy curse. He didn't dare take a chance on losing his soul again. Not around Buffy.

"He's wrong. He's not one of us," Drusilla intoned oddly. "But he is one of us. Spike."

"Yes, love?"

"I don't like her. And I don't like him." She turned her wide gaze on Angel. "And Angel's an old fuddy duddy." She seemed to like the sound of that. She repeated the words several times. Then she got an idea. "Giles. I want to see the Watcher. Spike, find the Watcher."

"Yes, love. After dark."

"Oh. Yes. There is that. Who's he?"

"I don't know."

"I don't think I like him."

"Shall I throw him out?"

"Oh, yes! bubble and burn," Drusilla burbled happily.

"I don't think so," Reno objected, shaking his hair back out of his face.

On physical mass, Reno might have been the larger. On sheer mean, Spike had him beat by several miles. On survival knowledge, they were about equal. Cheri stepped between them.

"Gentlemen -- and I use that word in the loosest possible context -- give it up."

Spike stopped, looked her up and down, leered and assured her that he'd give it up for her any time, presuming she'd return the favor. Cheri looked exasperated, sighed and then laughed.

"Not today, dear. Not today. Fledgling on hand."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Let me guess, this is a sample of the not-so-responsible vampire," Reno said softly nodding toward Spike and Drusilla.

Cheri grinned. Spike did likewise. Drusilla stared at Reno hard. Then she smiled, innocent and childlike. Reno wasn't certain he really wanted to know what lay behind the smile.

Angel finally found his voice and asked what had brought the two of them back to his abode. 

"Wouldn't you like to know. All cozy with the slayer?" Drusilla asked.

Angel turned away. Like he was ever going to be "all cozy with the slayer" ever again. Much as he adored Buffy, their relationship was over. He didn't even know exactly why he was still in Sunnydale.

Upstairs at Giles', Siro and Rayden were wondering much the same thing. The confrontation of the night before seemed as though it should have been the focal point of their visit. Both had been somewhat expecting the return of the roaring twister to take them back to Kung Lao. Nothing. 

Rayden was sitting in the window of the bedroom while Siro bathed. He was amused at the man's fascination with indoor plumbing. Hot water at the turn of a knob had him amazed and pleased. Hot water running from a nozzle above him to allow him to just stand under it and enjoy the sensation was -- well, he's borrowed Giles' shower three times in the last 24 hours. 

Siro came out of the bath wrapped in a thick towel and looking pleased with himself. "It's as good for aches as a soak at the monks' place," he announced and started getting dressed. 

"I'm glad you're enjoying it. If we're here much longer, we may have to investigate getting a place of our own."

Siro looked up. "We just haven't solved the problem yet?" he offered hopefully.

"Last night wasn't a problem?"

"It was -- but not *the* problem? perhaps?"

Rayden smiled. Count on Siro to be an optimist when others were being concerned. He had felt the strangeness about the vampire/demon who fled before them. There was a tinge of OutWorld about him. Perhaps the Emperor was not yet through with them in this time and place. He shook his head slightly. It would be handy for an immortal to be able to remember in both directions, he thought. But then, things could get really muddled if you couldn't sort out which end of your existence the memories were coming from.

Then again, there were some things one might not wish to recall regardless of which end of one's existence they were at. Pain as he had never before felt enveloped him. He instinctively curled into a ball and fell out of the window. Luckily, he fell into the room instead of outside. The pain was so intense, he could not even make a sound of protest, he could only gasp for breath and try to hold on to the shreds of consciousness unraveling around him. The pain eased only to intensify again. He was peripherally aware of Siro hovering beside him, afraid to touch him in case it added to the problem, yet unwilling to leave him.

Giles and Tanya heard the thump when Rayden hit the floor. The silence afterward set them both on edge. They headed upstairs to find out what was going on. They found Siro kneeling next to Rayden who was curled so tightly into himself that fetal was possibly too mild a term for his position. Giles didn't think a normal human being could do that. For a moment, he forgot that his guests were far from normal. Rayden went limp.

Siro laid a hand on the Thunder God's shoulder, checked for a pulse. It was there, strong and steady. He looked around at Giles and Tanya. He looked lost. His anchor to reality had just been taken out. Surprisingly, it was Tanya who came to his rescue.

"He is alive?"

"Yes."

"Put him on the bed. He cannot be comfortable there when he awakens."

Siro did as he was told. The gray haired god was lighter than he looked. For once his face was relaxed as Siro had seldom seen it. He frowned at the immortal on the bed. What could do this to a god?

"Now, get dressed."

Siro remembered he was clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist. He nodded with a smile and retrieved his clothing. He dropped the towel and proceeded to pull on his clothes. Giles beat a hasty retreat. Siro looked up as he left, a curious look on his face.

"They are not so uninhibited," Tanya explained. Siro did not look enlightened. "Nudity taboos?" Still nothing, although he obviously understood that she was attempting to impart knowledge to him. She thought about it. "Your culture does not find human nakedness something of which to be ashamed."

"Ashamed? Why?"

"Good question. It has to do with technological superiority, I think. Personally, I do not understand the ability of modern man to be paralyzed without his external trappings. It gets you killed. But, it is so. And Giles, he is very proper, very British, very uncomfortable with himself -- " she ended thoughtfully. Might there be something she could exploit?

Rayden groaned and brought their attention back to him. He opened his eyes. Lightning flashed in their depths and then he looked normal. He ached. Every muscle in his body hurt. Muscles he'd forgotten he had hurt. He gave Tanya a warm smile and tried to sit up. No. Not a good idea.

"Stay where you are. What happened?"

"Pain."

"That is a good start, but it does not explain." 

He smiled. "No, it doesn't. I don't have an explanation. I was just sitting there and -- everything -- hurt. I would say that whatever Siro and I were brought here for isn't over yet."

"Ah. So, tell me about you and Siro. I know you come from -- perhaps and alternate existence. But that is all. We have not had time to talk, yes?"

"No. We haven't. Siro is a guard, a fighter, a good man to have at one's back."

"And you?"

"He is Lord Rayden, Thunder God, Immortal --"

"Immortal?"

"Mentor of the Champion of Earthrealm," Siro finished with a flourish, ignoring Tanya's interruption.

She looked at him sharply, then back at Rayden. "Earth -- realm? But you do not belong in this time, that much is certain. And, Immortal?"

"Yes?" Rayden was trying to follow where she was leading and having a hard time of it.

"So, technically, you could exist twice in this place and time."

"Technically," he agreed. Then he really thought about what she was saying. As an immortal, time meant little to him. But if there was another Rayden here, an older Rayden who was in trouble ------ He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and nearly fell over. His vision went double for a moment, but not with the same objects in the same room. Siro moved to steady him. He grabbed the man's arm and looked up into his face. Siro did not like what he saw there. A shaken god is not a good thing to see.

Rayden looked around at Tanya. "There are two of me here," he said softly.

She nodded. He confirmed her first suspicion. "Now, what do we do about it?"

"Do?" Siro sounded as confused as he felt. What could they do? Go home. That sounded good. Then there would only be the Rayden who belonged here. But how to get home? And leaving the Rayden who belonged here in trouble didn't sit exactly right with him either. "We find him," he said slowly.

Tanya smiled. While in Cheri's proximity, she would not be allowed to exercise her considerable talents of destruction in a wanton fashion, but this sounded like her talents could be useful, very useful.

"I think we need to talk to Giles."

Buffy, dozing fitfully on her bed instead of trying to plow her way through an English assignment, heard someone call her name. She turned her head toward the sound. The voice came again. Sleepily, she opened her eyes, saw a glowing Rayden standing in her room and snapped wide awake. This included moving off the bed and grabbing slayer stakes in a blur of movement. The figure did not move. Then she took in the full enormity of the figure just as it faded. When did Rayden start wearing blue jeans and a leather jacket?

Buffy lost no time in heading out to Giles' place to find out what was going on. She met up with Tanya and Siro at Giles' front door. They were coming out.

"Oh. Hi. What's up?"

"Lord Rayden," Siro began.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Tanya cut in. "Come on," she added to Siro and led him off to her car.

Buffy watched them go, then knocked on the door. Giles, adjusting the collar of his perpetual tweed suit, opened the door.

"Ah, Buffy. Good. You can stay here with Rayden while I go do some research."

"What? Hold it. Wait. What is going on?"

"Oh -- er -- well. Lord Rayden seems to be -- in two places at once," he put it succinctly if incomprehensibly.

"Try that again. I seem to be missing something here."

"There are -- well -- uhm -- two of him."

"Like -- twins?" Buffy asked hopefully.

"No."

"OK. Like -- like what? I am not getting this. This is a bad thing. This is a "make the slayer crazy" thing. This is a "remind the Watcher the Slayer is *not* good at puzzles without clues* thing." Buffy was frowning at him with her "I'm trying to understand this and you're doing a lousy job of explaining it" look.

Giles took a deep, supposedly relaxing breath, and released it. "Essentially, Lord Rayden is an immortal. The -- the one of him we have met is from -- another time. I thought that also meant another place. We are -- er -- beginning to have indications that -- that this is not so."

Buffy tried this explanation on for size and found it wanting. "Could we try for just a teensy bit more clarity, here?" She ignored his look and concentrated on what he would say next. She had a feeling that she really *needed* to understand what was going on. She had a hunch that her understanding was critical, even if it didn't make any sense.

Giles frowned slightly. "I believe that translates to, there is Rayden from the past and Rayden current. There are two of him."

"Ah. That would explain the leather jacket and the jeans."

It was Giles' turn to practice his "huh?" look. "I beg your pardon?"

Buffy brightened visibly. "That would explain the jacket and the jeans and the whiter hair and the "in my room fade out" thing -- I think." She considered this for a moment. "Well, it would explain the kinda retro James Dean look, but not the fade out."

"Retro James Dean --" Giles repeated vaguely. Where did she pick up these things? "You *saw* Rayden?"

"Yeah."

"In *your* room?"

"Yeah." Buffy agreed, nodding. Giles was being really swift on the uptake here.

"When?"

"About -- half an hour ago."

"Did he look like he was in pain?"

"No."

Giles shot a frowning look at the stairway. Half an hour or so ago would coincide with the surge of pain Rayden had felt. But it didn't seem linked if the vision Buffy had seen wasn't in pain. Unless -- could astral travel cause pain to the part of you that wasn't current if it was present while you -- Oh, my, that *was* tangled, wasn't it?

"Keep an eye on Rayden. And let me know if you see -- the other one again."

"Where are you going?"

"The library."

"Oh. Without me."

"Someone has to keep watch on Rayden -- and there isn't anyone else and we don't yet know just what we're up against, so --"

"So it's better than trying to get in some late morning slaying. I get it. I don't like it, but I get it. So -- go research."

Giles went, not without misgivings, but then those were with him constantly regardless of upbringing, training, or common sense. Buffy went quietly upstairs to check on Rayden. 

The man in the white and blue robes had turned on his side so he could at least look out the window. He didn't look as impressive as usual lying there, his head pillowed on one arm, his hair a little disarrayed. He looked a lot more human. He heard her stop at the doorway. He rolled onto his back and looked at the young woman standing there. He smiled. It was a warm, welcoming smile.

"Your -- Watcher -- explained?"

"Sort of. Two of you. Not twins. Not good. That much I understood."

"It is a little complicated."

"Yeah. Life is a little complicated."

"Frequently. Especially for champions."

Buffy perched on the end of the bed. "Champions? Well, I don't get called that too often."

"I know. Probably just as well. This is, to me, a very strange world you live in."

"Yeah, well, you know --- it gets a little strange for us sometimes, too."

Rayden regarded her solemnly for a moment and nodded. "Yes, I can see where it would." He broke off with a gasp. It wasn't as bad this time, but there was a definite surge of pain again.

Buffy was at his side instantly, yet, like Siro, she refrained from touching him at first. "What is it?"

"Pain. Unlocalized. It - just - hurts," he ground out. 

He was a little surprised when she sat down and put her arms around him, as much as possible. He accepted the embrace gratefully even as the pain spasmed through him again. Buffy grimaced at what she could feel, his muscles contracting in involuntary convulsive spasms. She knew pain, but the things that hurt her she could usually see, feel, fight. This was different on so many levels she almost didn't have words to express her feeling about it. So, she just sat and held on until it passed.

Buffy wasn't certain just when she realized that Rayden had fallen asleep with his head resting against her. Then it was a case of not disturbing him. He probably needed the rest. She leaned back against the headboard of the bed and tried to clear her thoughts. It was odd sitting on Giles' bed, another man sleeping in her arms -- uh -- er -- wait a minute. Try rephrasing that -- Only it wouldn't rephrase. She almost laughed. What would her mother say? No, not the time to go there.

The sun crept slowly down the western sky. Just as it slid beneath the horizon, Rayden awakened with a cry. He was of the bed and out of the room before Buffy was awake enough to realize that she wasn't in her own room dozing over her English assignment. Bed. Man. Giles? She sprang to her feet and ran after the man who was nearly at the front door of Giles' home.

Rayden! She recognized the flying hair and robes as she hit the middle of the stairs. "Rayden! Wait!"

He turned. Lightning played where his eyes had been dark and friendly before. "Stay away," he said in a voice that sounded distant and very unfriendly.

"Got a reason?" Buffy liked a challenge, but this was probably beyond her. Maybe she could just get him talking.

"Death. It stalks this time. The Earthrealm is in danger." He looked at her more intensely. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other while she wondered what he was seeing, what he would do next and how she would counter it if she had to do so.

"Earthrealm -- OK. What's an Earthrealm?"

"Your world. Your very existence."

"Ah. Well, that would be bad. Yes. So -- what do we do to stop it?" After all, she was the Slayer, world saving was a part of the job.

Rayden seemed to really see her again. His eyes flickered but the worst of the oddness faded. He stepped toward her. "You? Impossible. Kung Lao trained all his life to win -- You -- are a child compared to him. Barely trained."

The door opened behind him. The wind outside, which had picked up greatly, blew the door out of the hand of the man opening it. Rayden whirled and reacted without thinking. He blew Giles backward into the yard outside. Giles hit hard and lay there, limp.

"Giles!" Buffy dashed past the thunder god to her Watcher. His eyes were open, the beginnings of comprehension returning to them. 

"Buffy."

"Giles. Are you -- I mean, he like -- are you all right?"

He seemed to consider the question for a moment. "Uhm -- er -- yes. I believe so."

Rayden joined them and offered Giles a hand up. "Your pardon. I -- I believe I over reacted to your arrival. Things are -- unsettled."

"Quite." Giles made a mental note never to walk up behind an unsettled god again.

"Any luck?" Buffy broke in.

"Uh -- no."

"Ok. Rayden thinks Earthrealm is threatened. Any bells?"

"No." How did he tell Buffy that in all the works he had ever read there was no mention of Earthrealm at all, that the term was a mystery much as the advent of Siro and Rayden into their lives was.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Sundown. Rayden now (denim, t-shirt, tired look), sat on the floor of his cell and wondered just how much longer she could hold him here. He reached out to his younger self. Nope. Not gonna work. OK. There had to be someone else. He tried to reach out and find the possible champion, a martial artist, something, anything. He touched a mind, a thought pattern. This was interesting. He recoiled abruptly. What he had touched was darkness, yet it wasn't. He tried to marshal his thoughts.

"Oh, my. Are we trying to work it out again?" the woman in green taunted. "Can't have that," she said with a laugh. Energy shot between the bars of his cell enveloping him in coruscating, shimmering shafts and shots of agony. He managed to hold off most of it, but it left him weak, dangerously weak. He knew he was sending some of it somewhere else. He hoped he wasn't doing any damage with it, but considering the source, wherever it went, it was probably destroying something.

Rayden the younger went to his knees abruptly. This time Buffy could see something twisting around him. It looked like a pillar of energy shot through with lightning. The van pulled up while she was trying to figure out something to do about it. Willow piled out behind the guys and then moved around them to stop and stare at Rayden. Her jaw dropped. This was not good. This was bad. This was -- oh, discharge! Of course.

"Oz, tire thingy. Now, please."

Oz managed to translate "tire thingy" into four way lug nut wrench and retrieved one from the back of the van. He looked at Willow with raised, expressively waggled eyebrows. "Wire -- lots of wire," she responded with a bright look. 

"Wire," he agreed. He dove back into the van and returned with a coil of electrical wire. Inspired, he wrapped some bare copper ends around the tire iron. He handed the coil to Willow. He had the idea, but where were they going to safely discharge all that energy?

Willow looked around and decided the earth itself would do. She shoved the bare ends of the wire into the ground. She frowned. Giles yard might never recover from the last 24 hours of having people and things dumped on it, but it was in a good cause. She nodded to Oz who quickly dropped the tire iron next to Rayden, just touching the energy crackling around him.

With a massive *POP* and a sort of *ZIZZZZ* sound, the energy took the path of least resistance and made a nasty black spot on Giles' lawn. Rayden fell over. His breath was coming in heaving gasps. Never had he dealt with such power. Was there another god involved? He hoped not.

Willow gave Oz a hug, which he returned. They were making quite a team. Xander was standing bemused by the entire show while Cordelia was complaining that she was getting tired of standing around in Giles' yard. She looked at the potentially cool guy in robes lying on the ground. Not too cool, just at the moment, but kinda cute, anyway. She looked at Buffy and Giles. Willow was not the only one who could tell that momentous things were about to happen. She allowed herself one wistful recollection of the days b.b. (before Buffy), straightened her shoulders, which had an astonishing effect on most males between 17 and 80, and stepped forward to find out what had been discovered since last she had known what was going on.

Giles gave them a quick run down on the Earthrealm/OutWorld confrontation. 

"Oh, great. We get to go up against people who make Jackie Chan look spastic and if we lose, the world goes bye-bye," she summed up. Xander looked at his "lost love" with admiration. He didn't know she knew who Jackie Chan was. Was Jackie Chan cool? "So, who gets to fight? Because I'm not dressed for this. And where? Why don't I stay with Mr. Sparkly Eyes while you go settle this?"

"I think we may *need* Mr. Sparkly Eyes," Buffy pointed out.

"Oh. OK. So, this is, like, an "end of the world, Cordelia gets to help out" sort of thing, isn't it? Is it going to be messy? Do I *have* to be there?"

"Cordelia -- even if you're not there, if we lose, it won't be cool," Giles cut in. A part of his mind was sitting back staring at him and wondering if he'd lost his mind. The rest of it was wondering where he'd picked up the attitude.

"Oh." She frowned for a moment and nodded. "OK. Well, where?" She looked from Giles to Rayden, who was sitting up again, to Buffy. No help there. "All right. This is an incredibly, not cool, not really together sort of gathering, right? All we have to do is figure out where a bunch of uncool, violently inclined types would hang out!" Regardless of her bright, "I managed to suss this one" presentation, Cordelia was right.

Xander and Oz looked at each other. "Lextor's."

They became aware of five pairs of inquisitive eyes fastened on them. Xander grinned. Oz looked like he wanted to dive behind something.

"Lextor's. It's a -- big warehouse sort of thing on the edge of town -- *south* edge. They stage martial arts competitions and stuff -- well, mostly. Yeah."

Rayden was on his feet. Buffy was frowning. Giles was heading for his car. Oz, Willow, Cordelia and Xander piled back into the van. Buffy and Rayden followed Giles. Cordelia stepped out of the van and grabbed Rayden's arm. 

"No. Van. Much safer. Well, safer," she conceded with a look that said it was the lesser of two evils. "Oz takes good care of the van," she ended up and led the bemused Rayden back to the van.

He was surprised at the comfort within as he sat on the floor with the others. A thick shag carpet protected them from the metal floor. Willow had the place of honor as co-pilot next to Oz. She liked sitting next to Oz. She was steadily *not* considering the next move.

Angel, Spike and Drusilla had left as soon as it was safe. Reno was staying with Cheri, Tanya and Siro. Reno knew something was up and as soon as the vampires reported back, he had a feeling his own usefulness would come to the fore. For now, he was content to pace while the others ate.

Tanya snagged a bottle from the case, handed it to Reno and made him sit down while he drank. "You are making me nervous," she pointed out.  
He smiled. She didn't look nervous.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Lextor's was deserted looking. The last time Oz and Xander had been aware of the place, it had been surrounded by expensive vehicles, most of them with license plates from places other than Sunnydale. This had attracted their attention. Tonight, nothing. Yet there was a tension about the place that indicated they were on the right track.

Oz parked the van a discreet distance away. He wished Giles would get that heap of his tuned up. The van disgorged it's cargo, Rayden following the others out. He staggered and nearly fell as he stepped down. Cordelia was at his side, her concern showing. This wasn't just Cordelia making a show of concern, it was real, which surprised Cordelia as much as anyone. She so prided herself on remaining as shallow as possible.

She looked at Giles as he joined them. "Something is *really* wrong."

"Yes. I know. Proximity?"

Rayden looked up at him and forced his eyes to focus. "Proximity?" What was the man getting at? Oh. That. He was close to his present self. A faint smile curved his lips. He nodded. Perhaps his presence on this foray had not been such a good idea. He was sharing his force with the other Rayden. At this distance, it didn't seem to be such a wonderful idea.

Inside, Rayden (now) was feeling stronger than he had for some time. There was a strange feeling of pressure inside his head. It was almost as though he was sharing his thoughts. No. He *was* sharing thoughts, and energy. He was sucking energy out of his younger self. He touched the bars which contained him. They twisted and warped under the energy glow in his hand. Careful. He didn't want to suck the other one dry. That could be disastrous.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Outside, Spike and Drusilla had spotted the Slayer and party. They dropped in. Buffy dropped into stance. There was no telling with Spike. He had helped her twice now, but Drusilla, spitting like an enraged kitten, did not like the Slayer.

"Enough, Dru," Spike chided her. He turned to Buffy. "Well, looks like we've got a right gathering here. This the place?"

Buffy looked confused. "You know?"

"Know? About the fight? Yeah."

"And you didn't tell anyone?"

Spike looked hurt, then grinned. "Well, we only just figured it out ourselves, you know. Dru, go tell the others."

"Don't want to. I want the nasty Slayer."

"Dru!" Spike's voice was sharp. Drusilla sulked. He relaxed his tone with her. "Come on. After it's done, we'll see what happens. But we need the others."

"Don't see why."

"Because we don't want the world to end."

"We don't? No, I suppose not. I'll go." She turned her attention to Buffy. "Stay away from Spike. He's mine." And she was gone.

Buffy decided it was best not to get into this now. She became aware of another presence. A hundred feet away stood a figure, motionless. A full cape flowed out around it, the hood concealing head and face. Silence. Buffy could begin to hear the friends around her breathing. She swallowed and stepped forward.

"Hi. I'm Buffy. And you are?"

She laughed. She pushed the hood back. Rayden stiffened. "Jade." He identified her. How had the wench survived all this time?

"Yes," she almost cooed. "Jade. I survive. And I will bring Earthrealm to OutWorld dominion. *This* is your champion?" She laughed again. "Well, don't just stand around out here, *do* come in."

She turned with a sweep of the cloak and strode toward the old warehouse and the battle ground.  
Bereft of speech and anything else to do, Buffy and the Slayerettes followed, Cordelia bringing up the rear with Rayden.

Rayden (now) had almost worked a hole in his cage when he sensed something about to happen. With an unexpected expenditure of energy, Jade moved him from his cage there to a new cage suspended above the battleground. The warehouse roof was thirty feet high. Rayden (now) was suspended in a small, uncomfortable cage just below the rafters. The spells on this cage hurt when he touched the bars. He very carefully sat right in the middle of the floor. He had a good view of the area. 

Jade gestured again. A ball of energy took form beneath her tapered fingers. It grew and moved, darting around the Slayer and her immediate companions to engulf Rayden and Cordelia. Cordelia's sound of protest was muted as the expanded ball shifted and changed. It came to rest directly beneath the cage holding the older Rayden. Another cage formed. It was a little larger than the first as it was accommodating two people. A spike of pure blue energy shot up from the cage on the floor to meet a similar spike from the cage suspended above.

Jade laughed again. She turned to Buffy and company, dropping her cloak which shimmered and disappeared before it hit the floor. "Now, we are safe. No one will gain admittance who is not called. Buffy Somers. Oz Harris. Bloody William, known also as Spike. You are summoned. You others may sit, there." She indicated a space which had been empty before. A selection of comfortable seats had appeared. "You will not be in combat. You will *not* interfere. To intervene is to die. Is this clear?"

Giles, a hand on Willow and Xander's shoulders, nodded and ushered his companions over to the seats. He didn't want Buffy to know how worried he was. He hoped the others would come soon. He hoped they were summoned. He did *not* like what was going on and desperately wished he had more time, more information and could take Buffy's place.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Drusilla wafted back into the church. She took a long look at all and sundry, dead boy, as Xander tended to call Angel, was not present. But the others were. She smiled at them. "I know where the action is," she told them.

"Where?" Tanya demanded.

"Somewhere -- where Spike is." She sensed Reno moving up behind her and turned to stare into his eyes. Such nice hazel eyes. She smiled at him. 

"Where?" he repeated the question softly. 

"Lextor's." Cheri and Tanya looked blank, as did Reno. Drusilla's sly grin lit her face. "Follow me."

They did. After all, there really wasn't much choice when the fate of the world was at stake. At such a time, one did not question even the strangest of help. They entered the warehouse without a problem. Jade met them at the door. She frowned at Drusilla. Not much in the way of fighting abilities there. Or so she thought.

"My, what a selection." She smiled, even at Siro, although she was as puzzled to find him here as she was the younger Rayden. They were no part of her plans, but she was adaptable. Adaptability was what had kept her alive all this time. "Siro, Kropotkin, Reno Raines -- please join the group over there." She gestured toward where Buffy and company were sitting. She turned her attention to Cheri and Drusilla. She smiled.

"My -- You do present me with something of a problem. While you are both capable of fighting, it is not what you do best. Please join Mr. Giles." 

She turned to walk back to the shadow where she awaited the arrival of the OutWorld champions. She turned back and looked into the green eyes of the non-vampiric immortal. "A word of caution, *any* interference is a death sentence. You cannot change the outcome of the challenge, you can only shorten your own experience."

"Now *that* had not occurred to me," Cheri responded sarcastically with a look at the cages holding the two Raydens and one very annoyed Cordelia. 

"Drusilla, I think we're not wanted," she continued, slipping an arm through that of the surprised vampire. "Shall we join Giles?"

Drusilla looked over at the company of slayerettes and smiled. Cheri decided she liked the looks of that smile. Her own thoughts were none too sweet as they joined Giles and the others. She could see that Giles was looking -- well, much more like the man she'd met several years ago than like the somewhat stodgy librarian/Watcher of current time. 

Their eyes met. Something he saw in hers caused him to smile. It was reminiscent of the kind of thing Drusilla offered as a smile. My, but we were all being greatly unpleasant and nasty tonight. That was a good sign.

On the other side of the warehouse, Buffy was frowning. She wanted to talk to Giles -- or Willow -- or Rayden. She needed to know what was going on. She gave a token nod of acknowledgement as Siro, Tanya and Reno joined the small group of bemused potential combatants. She met Siro's serious gaze and sighed. He sat down beside her. 

"You know what is happening?"

"Not exactly. I mean, this kind of slay the bad guys and save the world thing is pretty -- normal, in a really abnormal sort of way," she told him with one of those "did I really manage to say that" sort of frowns on her face. "I mean -- living in a Hellmouth sorta gives you a handle on really peculiar stuff happening -- but this -- I'm used to demons and vampires and ugly other dimensional things that leap out and try to eat or kill or maim me -- and my friends. Not this -- uhm -- " 

"Formal challenge?" Reno inserted from behind them.

Buffy's vampire sensing senses were alternately screaming "incoming" and "what the heck?" at her where Reno Raines was concerned. She looked him up and down. He looked paler and a little thinner than he had when he was at Giles' when all this moved from Rayden's world to Buffy's. Between his presence and Spike's, on her side of the room and apparently on her side of this challenge thing, she was having problems concentrating. Not that it was the first time she had teamed up with a vampire to stop the end of the world. She sometimes wondered if she was ever going to get Spike *out* of her life. At the rate things were going, it might not be long enough to continue wondering this kind of thing. So, she asked Siro about what he knew about OutWorld and EarthRealm and what was about to happen, and tried to ignore the empty hole where Giles' reassuring presence while he did research in the library should have been.

Giles was scowling. The only two people who could answer his questions were separated from him. Rayden was locked in some sort of power/energy field and Siro was with Buffy. On one level, the latter reassured him. He hoped the others would have sense enough to let Buffy wait until she had a feel for what was happening before letting her into the combat. Knowing Buffy, she was ready to slay. He could almost feel her sense of frustration as a tangible thing. He nearly growled at Cheri when she touched his arm.

"Well, gee, if you really don't want my help, I *can* just stay out of things."

The way his face shifted under the influence of his normally very tightly reined in emotions was almost funny. Cheri reviewed that thought. Actually, under other circumstances, it was funny. She smiled at him and leaned her head in close so that her words did not carry. She had no idea what sort of magic was operating in this place, so there was no assurance that the witch in green could not hear them, but she would take what precautions she could. 

The woman calling herself Jade, once known as Vortex, smiled to herself. This was all working out very well. The Empress would be pleased, whether EarthRealm fell or not. Rayden would be gone. The champions of EarthRealm would be gone -- most of them. And Jade would ascend in the councils of the mighty.

A reddish, whirling, eye searing vortex opened nearby and started spewing out fighters. Spike was torn between worry and laughter. There they were, the bad guys, right out of the game: Scorpion, SubZero and the rest. He frowned as a couple of monk types joined the crowd. He could sense something about them. The opposition fanned out on the other side of the arena. Most of them dropped into stances and began limbering up. The two robed characters made intricate gestures with their hands and had Spike really worried when small balls of flame took form. They played with flame like children play with water.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," he muttered. He met Reno's gaze. 

"They play with fire. If we come up against them --"

"Toast. We make certain we don't come up against them. Buffy."

Buffy turned from sizing up the opposition and joined the two vampires. 

"Yeah?"

"We have to find a way to control who fights -- the flame throwers need to fight someone other than Spike or myself."

"That would be -- reasonable," she agreed. "How do we do it?"

"They draw lots," Siro pointed out behind her. "There is no way to control that."

"Is there not? We have two vampires with differing talents. We have Slayer and myself and you. We are very strong. If chance is at play, that should pit no more than one of you against one of the monks. We will know if it is truly a set up if you both face a monk." Tanya's accent was so heavy, it was difficult to decipher what she was saying. They managed. And Tanya had not pointed out the one major advantage she suspected they had, the witch in green did not seem to know that she had immortals other than Rayden on the team.

Jade stepped forward, she took a stance near the cages holding Rayden and Cordelia. "Welcome to the Challenge of Mortal Kombat. This will be a short challenge. *You* fight for EarthRealm and all its people. You will each be matched with one of the OutWorld champions. Round one, the fighter who falls and cannot rise loses. Round two, those who have not fallen fight again. Eventually, it all comes down to one --one from EarthRealm and one from OutWorld. Winner take all."

"Jade!" The sound came from both Raydens and sounded strangled. "This is *not* the time or the place," they grated in painful synchronization.

She laughed lightly. "Of course it is. For a thousand years or more, by mortal time, there has been no serious threat to EarthRealm. The Empress wishes to succeed where her father failed. *I* intend to help her to that success -- or to reinstate the cycle of combats, at the least. Now, silence, elder one. Let the combat begin!" She swept off to the sidelines.

Spike went up against something that didn't look exactly human either. Four arms, massive muscles, and breath that made Spike's seem fresh as a daisy. Spike vamped out, charged in and found himself landing at Buffy's feet. He shook his head and plowed in again. The fourth time he went flying, his head contacted a support post in a very, very solid manner and Spike took a short break from reality. The opponent was declared the winner of the match. He took his win without grace as he postured and flexed his muscles before returning to the sidelines.

Drusilla blinked at the fight and then turned her wide eyed stare on Giles. "Do something," she demanded softly.

"What?"

"Make certain *we* win."

Giles met her gaze and cringed inwardly. If they lost, he rather thought Drusilla wasn't going to be the least of his worries, but probably his first. He turned his gaze on Cheri who was looking thoughtfully at Willow who was frowning as though she was trying to remember something.

Cordelia, inside the cage with Rayden the younger, had decided that complaining wasn't getting her anywhere. She was concentrating on watching the fight and trying to find a weak spot in the cage. Logic told her that a cage made of energy, the way the two of these seemed to be made, was not penetrable by a mere mortal. On the other hand, she had experienced a great number of things since Buffy arrived that obscured logic, if they didn't out right refute it. Therefore, there might be a way for a mere slayerette to get free even if a god couldn't. She firmly told her mind to quit trying to boggle over a little thing like hanging with a god while the fate of the world hung in the balance and started testing the bars of her prison.

Rayden watched the young mortal testing the parameters of his prison. He watched the first combat. He felt rage and frustration welling up within him as he saw Spike go down. He should be free to advise those who fought to keep EarthRealm free. Energy pulsed between the two cages. Cordelia touched the bars gingerly, fully expecting to get shocked. The energy played over her fingers. It didn't hurt. She touched the bars. Her hand passed through the bar as though it wasn't there. That shook her. 

Willow and Cheri were deep in whispered conversation while Tanya Kropotkin and SubZero fought. There were ice patches where the cold powered warrior had thrown his fiercest weapon. So far, Tanya had managed to avoid being tagged by one of the ice clouds he could throw. But she was tiring and had yet to land a really telling blow on the superbly muscled fighter. Willow noticed Cordelia push her hand though the bar. She quietly called Cheri's attention to the unexpected phenomena. She wasn't certain how they could turn it to their advantage, but there might be a way.

SubZero went flying past their vantage point. Cheri applauded her sister's technique. She'd aimed him for another support post. Thonk! The man's back and head made solid contact. He slid down the pillar and lay stunned at the base long enough for it to be considered a victory. Cheri wasn't certain the emotionless look on her face was reassuring, but it was better than the gloat of the previous victor.

"One and one. Even. Reno Raines. Tshang Tsung. Step forward. Continue."

The two opponents stepped into the open area. Reno bowed respectfully, never taking his eyes off the arrogant, black clad, long haired oriental he faced. They both fell into stance and then moved around each other, looking for weaknesses to exploit, an opening. Each man moved with grace and confidence. Attacks came at speeds most mortals could not attain, or follow. This was going to take a while.


	13. Chapter 13

When last seen, our intrepid characters were at the Luxtor warehouse engaging in a Mortal Kombat round for the fate of EarthRealm. In this corner: Buffy, Siro, Reno Raines, Spike, Tanya Kropotkin In the other corner: SubZero, Scorpion, the prince of dragons, and assorted baddies. In the audience: Cheri Yuconovich, Rupert Giles, Drusilla, Willow Rosenberg, Xander, Oz, et al. And in the cage in the center of the warehouse: Rayden (younger and current) and Cordelia.

Chapter 13

 

Tanya has removed SubZero from competition. Spike has been removed from competition. Angel hasn't arrived. Reno Raines has just had his name pulled out of the hat to face the "best" of the bad guys, Tshang Tsung. Reno and his opponent fell into stance and circled each other looking for openings. Reno had patience on his side. The buff oriental looked to be the impatient sort. He lunged in with a flurry of hand techniques, most of which Reno dodged with little difficulty. His enhanced senses and reflexes were working out well. He moved in on his opponent, countering and blocking his blows. Tshang Tsung was strong, stronger than an ordinary mortal, even one with years of martial arts training behind him, should have been. They traded blows and kicks, each displaying a mastery of body control that was truly impressive, and inhuman. They were far more evenly matched than either had expected. 

Meanwhile, Willow's attention was on the paired cages containing Rayden and Cordelia while Cheri kept an eye on the green garbed wench running the show. Cordy was watching her hand slide through the bars of the cage with awed fascination. She looked around to see if the green clad woman was watching. Nope. Her attention was all on the fight. Cautiously

Willow shifted her weight so that she could really watch what Cordelia was up to. Cordelia stared wide eyed at her hand and arm which had passed through the bars of the cage without getting hurt. She shifted slightly so that she could slide her shoulder through. She figured she'd get stuck about there. Or someone would notice her. Or -- She looked around at Rayden who was splitting his attention between the fight and Cordelia. It was difficult to tell, but she thought she was getting an encouraging look from the Thunder God, so she turned her attention back to removing herself from the cage. Slowly, ever so slowly, she moved between the bars and out onto the warehouse floor. It felt a little like being slowed down by syrup, only not so sticky. Maybe this was what they meant by heavy water? Somehow, she doubted that with the part of her brain that wasn't attempting to explain the sensation she was feeling.

Reno and Tshang Tsung seemed to have come to a standstill. Both were breathing hard, which was a little odd when you considered that vampires don't breath. But then, Reno was a very young vampire, maybe he hadn't figured it out completely, yet. Jade was intent on the fight. 

Cordelia looked around for a weapon. Where, oh where, were broken boards and stakes and saps when you needed them? She made certain the tackily green encased woman was still watching the fight and began to move away from the cage.  
Rayden (younger) watched her go and wished he could find a way to protect her as she went. Just breathing was not easy right now. He could sense the weariness of his older self. They were linked so that what one felt, the other did also.

Tshang Tsung moved in for the kill. His opponent was flagging. It was time. He launched his most dangerous attack -- and found himself lying on the floor gasping for air, the distended fangs of his opponent inches away from his throat. In disbelief, he awaited the tearing of his flesh. Reno shuddered and regained control. He released his opponent and turned away. Tshang Tsung was on his feet and attacking again. He had Reno down, now for his well known coup de gras -- only it's a little difficult to suck the soul out of a vampire. The magic backlashed and slammed Shao Kahn into unconsciousness. Reno staggered to his feet, the winner by – a cosmic prank? He looked at the unconscious oriental, shook his head and staggered back to the others to collapse next to the Slayer. He looked up into her blue eyes and found a smile for her.

Buffy looked down at Reno and smiled back. What was it with her and vampires? Well, not all vampires, she corrected herself, just vampires with souls and vampires who rode motorcycles -- and cancel that train of thought right now. She looked at Jade just as her name was called to combat. She didn't recognize the name of her opponent but she could feel him. 

Vladislav the Impaler. What a name. He looked -- well, he looked kinda wishy, until you got a really good look into those heavy lidded eyes. There was steel and fire and a touch of madness burning in their depths. He nodded to her regally as she stepped into the "ring" designated area. He looked her up and down, sizing up his opponent. He was not a fool. Just because the slightly built woman was young and beautiful, did not mean she was not a worthy opponent. Just how worthy had yet to be seen.

"Begin."

They circled each other. Buffy's strength and grace matched by the vampire's. She wondered why he didn't just vamp out and go at it the way most of them did. He feinted right and smacked the Slayer as she took the bait. She bounced back with a shake of her head to clear her senses and they circled again. OK. He was an experienced fighter. She was on her guard even more now. They traded techniques, both taking sharp hits, but nothing critical. 

Giles was puzzling over the man's name. Where had he heard it before? Where? He muttered the name under his breath.

"Try Vlad the Impaler, Vlad Drakul of Wallachia -- "

"Dracula?" Giles suddenly came out with his name as he turned to look into Cheri's too green eyes. "This is a joke --"

"Not if you know your history. He wasn't a vampire when he vanished from the pages of history -- but those of us who are horror movie buffs do know that when they tried to get permission to excavate his grave, the church wouldn't give it. And Vlad Tepesh Drakula was buried under the altar in a Byzantine Rite church, a very old and very rich one. Odd place to bury even a prince of the country and a hero of the people."

Vlad could hear Cheri's discourse on his history. A fierce pride burned within him. For thirty years he had held Wallachia against the Turks. He was a hero to his people, not some stinking Turkish toy, not some monster. Buffy knocked him backwards off his feet and onto the bare planking of the floor. Splinters of wood scraped up and stabbed into his flesh. Wood. He howled with pain and shifted form. Mist. Smoke. A wind whipped up from nowhere and blew the smoke away.

"Victory to the Slayer," Jade cooed. Her eyes promised more to come as Buffy glared at her and returned to her seat. 

Siro, Reno, Tanya and Buffy sized up the remaining opponents. There seemed to be an unbalanced lot of the others to their four. Well, they couldn't force them to fight each other -- could they?

Jade gestured for one of the monks to enter the combat. A 2x4 smacked her in the back of the head with enough force to knock her off her feet, as well as out of consciousness. 

Cordelia looked pleased with herself. "I think this is officially over," she said with a pleased grin. 

The four armed thing growled at her and laughed. She looked around. The cages were still there and the pillar of energy between them was getting brighter. "Giles," she called sharply. "Do something."

Giles raised an elegant eyebrow at that. What the h**l did she think *he* could do? The combat had to be won. He looked to Rayden. Rayden was apparently in discomfort, but was thinking. "Together. Now," he called through gritted teeth. This might be his last few moments on earth, but he would back his people against OutWorld as he always had.

Siro grinned and advanced followed by Buffy and Reno, Tanya bringing up the rear. Just as the seven remaining OutWorld champions entered the ring, there was a crash of glass and Angel entered the fight. Melee combat with well trained warriors around her seemed just the ticket to Buffy as she let her pent up anger at being the Slayer, at time travel, at not being able to have Angel, at the unfairness of being a teenager and not being able to enjoy it most of the time and at the world in general surge through her. The monks fell before her onslaught. The dragon thing caught her with a back fist and Buffy went down for the count.

Tanya and Scorpion fought to a stand still. They ended up leaning against opposing pillars panting at each other, unable to fight. Siro landed blow after blow on his opponents until they went down. He turned to see who else was standing and Goro caught his arm between two of his. His forearm broke with a sickening snap as the four armed dragon spawn pulled him off his feet and tossed him across the warehouse into a wall. Siro slid down and gratefully lost consciousness.

That left Reno and Angel facing Goro. The dragon prince bellowed his power to the rafters. Angel looked up. One of the rafters came down. Panicked at the thought, Angel leaped out of the way and was also slammed across the warehouse at speed. He ended spread-eagled against Rayden's (now) cage. The incredible energy flows tingled and held him like a magnet holds steel.  
Reno took a deep breath and fell solidly into stance. He would *not* let EarthRealm fall, regardless of what happened to him. Goro advanced. He attacked and Reno found a weakness. The huge dragon spawn was getting tired after tossing the others around. Reno used his smaller size and swiftness of movement to elude the swipes of the giant. He slammed kick after kick into exposed flesh until finally, nearly exhausted, a red haze floating before his eyes, he jumped and spun one more time. His heel caught his opponent in the temple and sent the giant crashing to the floor. Goro tried to rise. One of his arms would not cooperate and he fell again. Reno jumped onto his opponent's back and got a good arm lock around the thing's neck. He tightened his grip until the giant was choked unconscious.

Reno slid off the monster's back and looked around. Jade was regaining consciousness. She looked at the mess in the warehouse and screamed. No. Not again. She gestured, gathering force in her hands, her hatred focussed on Reno who was entirely too tired to move out of the way.

"Jade!" The Thunder God thundered. Rayden spoke with two voices as one. He intoned the rules of Mortal Kombat. A winner stood before her. The combat was over. EarthRealm was safe.

"For now!" she spat at him and threw the dazzling ball of green plasma at the lower cage. While the rest of the survivors were diving for cover, she spun and gestured again. A whirling red shot vortex opened and she jumped through, closely followed by her "champions". The vortex slurped up the unconscious dragon prince and closed with a snap.

Rayden fought the energy flows that tried to overload the cages and the flux between the two versions of the thunder god. Abruptly, with a very loud snzzzzt-pop sort of sound, Angel was blown away from the cage and the energy column disintegrated, taking the cages with it. Rayden the elder fell to the ground and passed into unconsciousness. Rayden the non-resident staggered as the energy flowed back into him.

"Siro," he almost yelled and nearly teleported to the man's side as the area started to rumble oddly.

Giles looked about wildly. He had a feeling the entire warehouse was about to go. He was right. With tortured creaks and snaps, the joists, rafters and walls started to buckle. "Angel!" he yelled. "Get Buffy." Giles grabbed Willow and Drusilla and headed for the door. Drusilla pulled free and went to snag Spike. Somehow, they all managed to get out of the place before it collapsed and without getting impaled on any flying debris. They all collapsed around Oz's van and watched as the warehouse not only collapsed but seemed to get sucked into some invisible hole until nothing was left except bare dirt.

Faith wandered up, dusting her hands and looked them over. "Hi, B. What's up?"

Giles looked over the other slayer and shook his head. "Faith. It's late. Go home. We'll fill you in later."

Faith gave them all the once over and nodded. She knew when she wasn't wanted. She sauntered off with a sassy sway of her hips.

"I'm hungry," Buffy said quietly and giggled. The giggle seemed to be contagious.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 - Epilogue

Siro groaned and wished he hadn't accompanied Rayden anywhere. His arm hurt. His back hurt. His head hurt. He considered the litany of "hurts" he was coming up with and managed a smile. He looked around at the others. 

Rayden seemed to be all right. Buffy was nursing a few bruises and a headache. Drusilla was cooing over Spike who was looking as though he was of two minds about being cooed over. Xander was looking forlorn as Willow and Oz cuddled and Cordelia made much of both Raydens. Giles was feeling and looking a bit haggard at this point, having made a thorough tour of all the bruises, contusions, breaks and assorted hurts the combatants had taken. 

Reno was tired and confused, but content to just sit between Cheri and Tanya. He looked around and wondered just how he'd gotten himself into this mess. He wondered how he was going to explain all of this to Bobby and Cheyenne, or if he was going to get the chance.

Rayden the younger moved to Siro's side and consulted with Giles. Of all of them, Siro was the one that worried him the most. His arm had multiple fractures, his ribs were cracked in several places and broken in at least two, although neither seemed inclined to shift and puncture anything vital. He had taken more damage than anyone, probably because he was the best trained mortal among the lot. Giles wanted to transport him to a hospital.

Rayden frowned. Rayden the elder smiled at Cordelia and excused himself. He liked the girl, but there was too much at stake to get involved with a child right now. He joined his younger self and Giles.

"Not the best of ideas," he offered. Giles scowled at him while his younger self looked curious. "Let's just say I know there is another way that will be of benefit without arousing the suspicions of the local constabulary, or anyone else. Isn't there?" He looked toward Cheri as he said this. 

Cheri glared at him. She stood up and stalked over. "Just what are you suggesting, godling?" she growled, her voice being too rough just now for a good hiss.

Rayden the younger bristled. The elder grinned at her. "You and I both know what you can do."

"In a gathering like this?" she gestured minimally to indicate the crowd in Giles' living room.

"Well, no. Not in here." He was guessing, but he knew he was right. Cheri glowered more and then nodded curtly. "Move him outside."

Gently, both versions of the god helped Siro up and out of the house into the cool night air. Cheri scowled at Giles who was intent on following. "Don't you have something better to do than gawk?" she demanded and stalked after the trio.

Rupert Giles knew where he wasn't wanted. He turned his attention to the vampires and slayerettes in the room. He took Oz aside and suggested that with all the excitement over, it might be a good idea to get people home -- Cordelia, Willow, Xander and himself. Oz regarded him for a moment with those oddly wise eyes and nodded, a shy smile curving his lips. He rounded up the Scooby Gang and departed with a friendly nod to the remaining personnel, except Drusilla.

"It's time we went, love," Spike told his less than sane lady lightly. 

"Is it?" Her disturbing gaze moved across the room. "I think you're right. Bye-bye." She waved and smiled sweetly before allowing Spike to lead her out of Giles' home. He wondered if Giles would remember to reinforce the anti-vampire spell before night fell again.

Reno watched them go. He felt a small pang at parting. After all, he was far more one of them than he was one of the mortal contingent, and the mortal contingent was shrinking. He found himself being regarded solemnly by Buffy's wide blue eyes. She walked over and stood regarding him for a long few moments of utter silence. He watched her warily, sensing some inner conflict.

"You're one of the good guys," she finally said. "I'm sorry you – I mean --" She looked around for something to focus on. She wanted desperately to apologize for what had happened to him, for not being there to stop the vampire from taking him.

"It's OK. Really. It's not your fault." And it suddenly dawned on him that he was much like this slip of a girl, shouldering more responsibility for incidents they couldn't stop regardless of the logic. 

Yes, if Val hadn't loved him, she probably would not have died in a tragic accident. But if she hadn't loved him, would he even have been there? Was Hog Adams' lousy aim his fault? No. Was Dixon's inability to cut his losses and leave? No. All in all, he recognized the traits that made them both who they were. Becoming -- a vampire -- hadn't changed that. He smiled at Buffy, his hazel eyes warming. 

Buffy smiled back. She sensed none of the troubling angst in this vampire that she did in Angel. She thought about that for a moment. Well, Angel had a couple of hundred years of being one of the bad guys to keep him unhappy. Reno had been one of the bad for a few hours, at most. Mostly, Reno was who and what he had been with a added twist. She was glad she didn't have to stake the bounty hunter.

"So -- what exactly does a bounty hunter do?" she asked abruptly.

Reno laughed. "A lot like what a Slayer does, apparently. I round up the bad guys and make certain they get put away -- well, most of the time. Not all the people who have bounties out on them are the bad guys. Sometimes I can help." It occurred to him that he might have a hard time giving up being Vince Black if it ever came down to it. Except for ducking the law and dodging Dutch Dixon, it wasn't a bad life. He'd have to think about it. But not just now. 

Outside, the Raydens laid Siro on the grass in Giles back yard. Siro closed his eyes and tried to relax. Cheri spoke to him softly, kneeling by his side. He was aware of her hands moving over him, just short of touching him. He could feel something like electricity flowing over and around him. He sensed rather than felt the discomfort of bones sliding back into place, knitting under the flow of energy Cheri guided. 

Giles, looking out the window curiously, saw a green fire playing around her hands and where she touched the man on the ground. He watched carefully and realized that the green trailed up from the ground where she knelt. She was channeling the energy of the earth itself to heal Siro. She sagged back on her heels. Tired as she was, she had done all she could for now. Most of the damage was well on the mend, but a cast of some sort would have to be applied to Siro's broken arm. She had brought the bones into alignment, had started the knitting process, but re-breaking would be dangerously easy for several days. She looked up at Rayden current and said as much. He nodded. 

"I'm certain Mr. Giles will be able to help. Can he get up?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Siro."

He turned dreamy eyes on her. "Yes?"

"Let Rayden help you up. How do you feel?" she asked as he gained his feet.

He tested his muscles, stretching, reaching. "Good. This still hurts." He gestured to the arm. 

"Well, break an arm in multiple places and it will hurt. But it should be as good as new in a couple of weeks. Try not to hit anyone with it."

"Right," he agreed with a nod. A couple of weeks. Magic. Right. Taja was never going to let him hear the end of this. Assuming he told her. 

Giles opened the door for them and gestured to the counter in the kitchen. He and Buffy had put together a pile of sandwiches. It wasn't much, but it was the best his kitchen could do at the moment. 

The sun began to tinge the sky with streaks of gold and pink. Reno found his eyelids getting very heavy. Cheri took him upstairs and tucked him into a closet for the day. Then she settled down for a nap. Tanya, deciding that Cheri just wasn't going to let her have any fun with Reno, escorted Angel home. Buffy, a little disappointed at this, but too tired to do or say anything, let them go. She sat down on the couch and nodded off while the Raydens and Giles talked.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Nightfall. Reno awoke with a sense of hunger. The door to his sleeping place opened and Cheri handed him a bottle. He drank. He stepped out of the closet. 

"Gives a whole new meaning to "out of the closet", doesn't it," she quipped with a laugh.

Reno stifled a groan and glanced out the window. Then he crossed to the opening and stared down at the humvee in the driveway. It was pink, but it was also obviously the one stolen from Bobby a while back. He looked around at Cheri who grinned at him. "How did you know?"

"His stuff's still in the glove compartment." 

"Oh."

"We'd better get moving."

"My motorcycle --"

"The Harley's in good hands until I can arrange to get it shipped to you. Relax."

"Easy for you to say."

"Yeah."

They took their leave of Giles which left him with Rayden, Rayden and Siro. He was wondering if there was something else coming that precluded their leaving. Siro wanted a shower so Giles took him upstairs and turned him loose in the bathroom, after encasing his cast in plastic wrap to keep it dry. He discovered his towels were still in the dryer and went down to get them. The two versions of Rayden were parting, the elder and current one leaving while the younger one closed the door thoughtfully.

Siro managed to finish his shower, dry and dress before the Thunder God spotted the vortex coming to retrieve them. He nodded a good bye to the bespectacled librarian before diving into the vortex, shortly followed by Rayden. The vortex snapped shut leaving Giles mildly goggling at the early morning sunshine. Back in his own time, Siro and Rayden stepped forth to find Kung Lao and Taja demanding to know what had happened to them, where they had been and what they meant by disappearing like that. Rayden smiled his usual secretive smile and vanished to leave Siro to explain about time travel, double gods, and Vampire Kombat.

 

The End


End file.
